She kicked it away.“Just look at me,” she laughed, pointing at her legs; a mixture of Mr Pearson’s sperm and her own vaginal juices had dribbled...out of her pussy and run down the inside of her thighs. “I didn’t even have time to put my knickers on, and now look what’s happened! If you were a gentleman, you’d offer to clean it up.”Mick took the hint, and knelt down, as Miss Sharpe spread her legs slightly to allow him full access to the mess on her thighs. She was giggling as his tongue tickled. I wish I could live some of those stories. But life is complicated. We both know it, but the fantasies are what keep me wearing a path in the carpeted stair-well. I want him to tell me those stories with his body, not just his eyes. I am married, and I think he is spoken for as well… sometimes, at least. But then sometimes he doesn’t seem so taken, and I wonder if he would actually take me, given a decent opportunity. He’s already suggested such; he’s invited me in once. But I had my hands. More

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