She gazed down at herself, blushing with shame as she realized how obscenely revealing her night-dress was. The transparent, black negligee was the sk...impiest in her wardrobe, the one she'd always worn for her husband when she'd really, really wanted to get fucked.Her nightie clung to her enormous tits, revealing the incredible size and firmness of her spongy tit-globes, showing her wide, stiff, crimson nipples through the gossamer-thin fabric. The lacy hem barely covered her tight asscheeks,. He knew her touch, her scent. “Don’t harass me, dear lady. I don’t know how to answer to my wife should she learn of my infidelity,” he mused. His Irish lilt in his voice. He was teasing, arousing. She bit his shoulder. He caught her by surprise by escaping her embrace, his one hand braceletted her wrists and now he had her pinned to the wall. Lust in her electric blue eyes reflected his. “But on second thought, I would be honored to fulfill this damsel’s wish. First, let me demonstrate my art. This area of Paris contains many sex shops and strip bars. Many of these were rather seedy, but we eventually came across a shop that seemed nicer. When we entered it appeared to be one catering to a lesbian clientele, as there were several female couples browsing. I had been in similar shops in London, but this was a first for Sylvie. She was very quiet while we were inside the shop, letting me do all of the talking. She never admits to having fantasies of any sort, but falls in with all of. “I think about you a lot when I do it. Do you remember that one night when you came to my apartment?”I did. It wasn’t a night I liked to think about. I had had a panic attack and fled her apartment, making up some half-baked story about why I had to leave and barging in on her while she was taking a shower to tell her.“You probably don’t know that I had hoped you would join me in the shower. That you would soap up your hands and run them all over my body. When I touch myself and think about.