I imagined. My husband of two decade plus puttering around in the kitchen of a dacha/cabin in the mountains. He’d started a fire, coffee, gourmet br...eakfast. I flirted with a man of my husband’s choosing. Thomas was naked, clean-breathed, frisky. He made the first move. We two kissed, exploring. It was easy to find a rhythm to his probes, your probes, his smooches, your responses. Never mind the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Sounds might as well come from the movie you two are not. Biting down hard on my lip to keep from moaning, you smile once again against my flushed skin. My body is betraying me and soon you will find out how wet I am.Knee to panty, knee to panty, over and over again. I don’t know how much more I can take and when I feel I will break down and start whimpering you pause against my wet panties and hook a finger around the edge and pull them aside. Everything around me goes still. I stop breathing and you wait just a beat before running that same long. He had met him at a social for the Department when a professor had introduced the two. One evening he was helping out at a fundraiser for the college. He was dressed neatly with his preppy look wearing a sweater with the college logo and looking very cute and feeling a bit effeminate and horny. He had not had any sexual encounters since the first one with the mature man Richard he had met at the museum. However he was looking forward to having another and real soon. That evening at the. “I want you to suck my nipples,” she said as she took off her black bra. I complied immediately and began to suck her perky nipples while my hand traveled down to her pussy, and began playing with her folds under her G-string. She began moaning, first softly, then harder as I pushed aside the fabric and began massaging her clit. “I want you to take me. Take me from behind,” she moaned into my ear, and to my amazement I was rock hard again. She stepped towards her bed in those high-heels, her.