I grabbed my sweat pants and panties, as well as Michael’s gym shorts, which were strewn across the living room floor before bounding up the stairs....Michael was right behind me, his erect penis swinging wildly as we both fled the scene of the crime. I remember observing that the fire place was down to glowing embers at this point. The TV was still on, playing Miracle on 34th Street. Quickly, I donned my flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, sans panties. I did not have time to put on underwear.. Sometimes she'd touch me briefly or slip a hand up my skirt, she loved asking me to go down into the cellar for whatever it was she'd think of and the horny bitch would stand over the hatch, legs wide apart. On more than one occasion, she squatted and washed the cellar floor giggling like a maniac, her panties on the floor beside her.Christmas came and gave us a break thank God. The first night after the boys went home, we had a couple of drinks in the bar whilst Derek sat poring over the. More

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