Fucking my indian wife

“Would you fuck him?”She played with more bacon on her plate, “Mike…”“Judgement free zone Vanessa, I know you find him attractive.”“Ye..., he’s attractive – but we are married Mike – so no, of course I wouldn’t fuck him.”“Of course we’re married, and we’re always going to be married.”I paused, and decided to paint an erotic picture to gauge her reaction.I spoke in a lighthearted, mater of fact tone.“We are at the bar tonight, Mark’s there. We have a few drinks, you flirt with him a bit like you. She and I were two out of maybe twenty employees, all of us women, who work in the same office processing insurance claims. It's the usual sort of thing, one big room with 'pods' of desks, each desk with its computer terminal, its photo of the loved ones, a spider plant that needs TLC and a soft toy parading as a lucky mascot. At one end there's the tea point and the water cooler, right next to the supervisor’s desk so she can keep an eye on us. We work flexible hours, and Sandra and I were. More

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