Lucille knew that her husband Peter was upstairs fooling around with her best friend Sally in the bathroom, but she was not in the least bit disturbed...because Sally’s husband Henry was under the kitchen table getting acquainted with her new French undies as she wrapped the sandwiches for the half day drive up from Arizona to the twenty four hour fuck-fest oasis in the desert. In a way, she was relieved that both her husband Peter and Sally’s husband Henry were more interested in things like. She stood up, feeling Erik’s now softening cock slide out of her. The emptiness left a trail of oozing fluids streaming from between her legs and onto the clean floor as well. She adjusted her skirt, letting it settle back down to at least partially cover her swollen sex. She reached for the towel she had brought to wipe down the cows and used it instead to clean some of the combined wetness that was now running down her thighs. The smell of sex was pungent in the air. She tried to wipe away. More

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