" Please, call me Argie, as if my name were two letters, you know, R. G.?" But it's actually spelled A-R-G-I-E?" Right!" she chirped delightedly, on f...inding he knew just how to spell her name. "So many people can't spell it," she said, re-crossing her legs."Argie..." Coughlin began, "is, or will your husband be aware of what you'll be doing here?" He will. And he won't complain about it either. We've reached a compromise. He will still have his affairs and I'll have mine. I just thought that. It started shortly after Dean and Sandra came over. I was naked of course. I’m always naked at home. Sandra undressed as soon as they came in. She always does that just as I do when we visit them. Then the men undressed. Sometimes the guys are naked at home, sometimes they aren’t. There was nothing unusual about it.The men asked us if we would mind putting on a show for them. Sandra and I smiled at each other. We always enjoy doing that. But even if we aren’t in the mood, a request from either. She was giving herself the best fucking ever, raising herself almost off Stu's prick, then lowering herself again until it was completely embedded in her hot pussy. Over and over, she fucked herself, feeling her pussy growing hotter and wetter with each exciting thrust of her crotch over her boy's big, pulsing cock.Trish's pussy gushed out buckets of hot pussyjuice, which oozed out her flowing cunt and trickled down her trembling legs. Her son's prick was slick with her cuntjuice as she. Stop it, please’ She begged him, her thighs spreading nonetheless. ‘Isabelle, do you remember what you said to me the first time I touched your pussy? Do you remember what you said you where?’ Isabelle shut her eyes and shivered. ‘Yes, Darius but...that wasn’t me, that was...youuu…’ His erection nudged against her pussy lips. ‘You looked like a slut to me. You sounded like a slut to me. You were practically begging me to finger you.’ Isabelle whimpered. ‘Nooooo…’ Darius slipped his.