"I know," she began, "that many of you missed out on our recent visit to Sir Geoffery's studio. It was a shame of course but Julia, Liz and myself had... a most, what shall we say, instructive afternoon. Sir Geoffery has been kind enough to lend us some of his equipment again and we thought that we should take the opportunity to try out a few things. If at the end of this evening any of you wish to purchase any of the items, just let me know and I'll arrange it."Now, I think you will know about. Fuck those tits, baby, slide your cock in there, and tell me if it's wet enough for you. He obliged, and she saw the head of his cock poke up between her tits. It was absolutely drenched in the lube, and slid back down with ease. "Is it wet enough, baby? Tell me how you like it wet. Tell me how you like it. I want to be your whore. Tell me how hot you are. I want to hear it. Your cock is getting harder with each thrust. Tell me you like it. Tell me you like it hot. Tell me you love. During our marriage I told her about my cousins and for fun she would sit on me and taunt me to try and get her off. I never stood a chance as she was 15 stones compared to my 8 stones. As our marriage wore on these sessions turned more into punishments rather than the fun foreplay it started as. My wife would pick on minor excuses, such as overcooked toast or weak tea to push me down and sit on me until I apologised profusely for getting things wrong. She would also only agree to let me up. I couldn't believe it, I was getting turned on by gay sex but I wasn't even gay. Not that I knew of. I knew I had to turn it off but it was captivating. The more I kept watching it, the more I felt my dick grow in my pants hearing the loud moans of pleasure on the screen. I leaned back against the sofa and my eyes widened in shock horror at how big my cock had gotten straining against the material of my jeans. I had to be released as it was getting uncomfortable. I unbuttoned my jean pants and.