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My hands traced the hair on his arm, the muscles underneath, the beard on his face. His were similarly busy, touching the skin on my knuckles, at my n...ck, under my ear. It was all simultaneously familiar and completely new. I kept on inhaling, breathing his scent in to keep in my heart forever. This was bittersweet – a moment stolen in time, and we knew to appreciate and use every second of our time together. We understood one another, knew what zones were erogenous, what touches were. Looking at her I can’t think of anything sexier than a woman with mascara smeared on her face and spit and slobber on her mouth with a cock between her tits with the look of she’s fucked and just expecting more of the same. Holding her nipples between my thumb and fingers pulling them tight I wrapped her tits around my cock and started to bounce my cock off her chin.Now the pained look on her face was a priceless moment. Grabbing her hair again as I stood, I dragged her over to my sofa, pulling. The most important thing to remember, Angel had told the girls, was that the object of the exercise was not to excite me, or make me come, but to excite the guy watching the video, the “end-user”. The best way to keep him involved was for the girl to express enjoyment and to come as often as possible. Every guy, Angel told the girls, fantasizes about nymphomaniacs who can’t get enough sex. The girls can come, should come, as often as they can, but they should be careful not to provoke the. Enjoy your rest."I stomped out of the bedroom and headed for the family room.The rigid prick that had so desperately needed something--anything--from my dear wife preceded me out the door.Cindy was curled up in a ball, weeping. My badly bruised love for her almost took me back to apologize, but something held me back. A line had been crossed.After many, many beers, I managed to take a piss by standing nearly on my head. I shucked my clothes and crashed onto the couch, pulling a light blanket.
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