The dildo had given a definite jerk in my hand. I shook my head. I must be imagining things. Again I moved the dildo close to my sleeping wife’s sex...and again it gave an unmistakable wriggle. For a moment it felt alive, more like an eel than a piece of carved wood. This was impossible. The dildo was solid, heavy wood. There was no battery compartment, no moving parts. Incredulously I reached forward and let the dildo rest on her skin of her right leg. Sure enough it came to life in my hand. With it being warm, the garment had soaked up sweat, along with having accumulated the remainders of piss and cunt juice from the past few days. Jo hadn't bothered to be as thorough in cleaning herself as she usually was, for the specific purpose of making her panties a real treasure for her hot brother. She had also kept them pulled up into the crack of her arse as much as possible, and didn't pass up an opportunity to let rip with massive farts whenever the moment arose. Jo thought to herself. More

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