Surprisingly little had been made of the brother vs. brother story in the media, most likely because Tim was a major league superstar, while Terrence ...was a role player, likely to be sent back to the minors after the Series ended. Jerseys and T-shirts showcasing Tim’s #17 were scattered heavily throughout the stadium, with fans of both him and the team displaying their loyalty proudly, while Terrence’s #77 indicated that he was living on borrowed time in the big leagues. Both had taken different. ”She quickly dried her body. Her breasts barely moved when she rubbed the towel across and around them. At one point she turned her back to me and my eyes were drawn to her miniature and absolutely perfect butt. When she bent over to dry her feet, I almost passed out. Everything about this tiny woman was perfect.“Mick O’Dell the Seventh, thank you. This shirt is nice and warm. May I have some more of this?” She held out the tumbler that had once been filled with warm tea.I got her a cup of hot. We slowly fucked and licked each other, enjoying each moment, in no rush for an orgasm. My wife reached up with her still well lubricated hands and pushed a finger deep into my anus. I groaned as she pressed down on my prostate. I started thrusting faster as my wife told Jordan to finger fuck her asshole. Jordan matched my rhythm as she jammed two fingers up into my wife's ass. I felt my orgasm start to rise when my wife ordered me to stop. She told me if I was going to cum, it was going to be. You pull me into the meeting room and close the door looking ultra business analyst-y in your white blouse, pencil skirt, stockings and black patent leather stiletto shoes with a 5 1/2 inch heel making you tall enough to look me in the eye. After closing the door you lean in and kiss me as my hands run up the back of your neck and through your hair. Our tongues meet and flick around each other as my hands caress the back of your neck sending a shiver down your spine. I move my left hand down.