Armaan’s bulge was tearing away his trousers and waiting to come out. He took Priyanka’s hand and placed it on his bulge. All this while he was fi...ngering her and she raised her ass few times in excitement. My wife opened her eyes when her hands were placed on Armaan’s cock. Her hands were still for sometime but after like 30 seconds she started stroking his dick. My dick started to get hard once again.He kept on fingering her and she started moaning loudly. After sometime Armaan asked her if. I listened to his regular breathing and tried to decide if he was awake."Good morning," he said sleepily into my ear.I raised my head and looked into his smiling eyes. "I don't usually climb all over men I barely know," I assured him."Extenuating circumstances," he agreed. "But that might not save you if you move like that again. I'm a gentleman, not a saint." He trailed his fingers down the back of my leg, sending electric sparks up my spine, making my breath catch in my throat."That's not. However - we had a lot if fun talking about friends and events. That much, that Constance got already jealous. Later the same day she tried to give me hell about it. Ranting about her sister, what kind of bitch she were for making a pass at her boyfriend, etc. I soon had enough vanished. She had told me before that they did not get along but after this experience it seemed to be the understatement f the year.A couple weeks later my birthday came around. I had invited a couple friends and, much. After the half-hour service, I nervously climbed the stone stairs. Mercifully there was no sign of Carlotta and I buried myself in the Ackroyd biography, to await the bell for Vespers.My second night in the monastery was less fitful – partly achieved through the soporific effects of a hip flask of brandy which I’d brought with me. Neither did I discover any more ‘death threats’ scratched in the sand on the beach the next morning. If Carlotta’s boast was to be believed, today was to be my last.