Thompson and I could see his balls lift up and down and I knew he was pumping his cum into my wife's pussy. I know when I masturbate that my cock expa...nds when I cum and I could only fantasies about how sexy it must feel for Joyce with Mr. Thompson's big cock expanding even more as it was filling her pussy with his cum so deep inside of her.Mr. Thompson still had his cock deep in my wife, and all I could do was reach down and start to stroke my own little dick. I knew that I had to cum! Part of. I stroked her cheek and traced her lips with my fingers."That was..." Shhh," I said and stopped her with a kiss. A gentle one."That was..." I know," I said, and I kissed her again.I felt her lips come alive under mine, and I knew the timing was okay."Ummmmh," she said dreamily, her arms coming up around my neck. I could taste the mingled fluids from our sex organs, and it wasn't bad. She was right; it wasn't bad. If somebody gave you a blind taste test, you probably wouldn't pick that. She had two glasses of red wine, Mark only one. They had strong coffee with baklava. Everything tasted good, she ate it all, and enjoyed the way that could talk without awkwardness. “I saw right away this morning that you had something on your mind,” Mark said as he sawed through a piece of baklava. It crumbled and stuck to his fork. “What is it?” “I’m over it now,” she lied. She couldn’t get the damn tattoo off her mind. “No you’re not.” He finished his coffee. “I’ve been seeing you almost. "You're a modest sort of chap, aren't you? No mention of your heroics, Sergeant, or may I call you Dave? I know that Harry Ledbetter does, and he's a good friend of mine."I was a bit surprised by his cordiality. Miles Shepard was an officer in the Coldstream Guards - OK, so not as ramrod stiff as the Grenadiers, but still a Guardsman."Harry and I go back a long way, and any friend of his is welcome to call me Dave." My nick-name is Bo. Only my mother calls me Miles." We shook hands, and then he.