I apologized for hurting her and she apologized for not being able to take it. We did achieve penetration, but I was unable to climax as she couldn’...t tolerate it. Over the next few months Diane and I continued to work on her pussy. She was tolerating being fingered and licked to orgasm just fine. And she went down on me. She had no cock sense, but sucking and allowing me to face fuck her to orgasm was fun for me. She would open the car door and spit the cum out after I climaxed. (“Spitters are. I better run. I'll call Sunday morning to see how it went."They said their goodbyes and ended the call. Marie took one more cautious look down the hallway, but saw no hint of Arthur. She went to the cabinets and dug past all the casserole dishes to retrieve a black, cast iron pot.***The next morning, Arthur woke up feeling refreshed. It wasn't often that he had such a full night's sleep. Looking beside him, he didn't see any evidence that his wife had come to bed at all. Figuring she had slept. They'd had quite a few "assisted conversations" as he termed it. He reckoned they had quite a good fix on what had gone on as a result. Turns out she'd studied psychology at college — they'd done a module on some of the brain washing techniques used in the cold war. It was primitive stuff then but apparently we'd used the ideas as the basis for our initial preparation. Apparently Rachel was a big fan of the Ipcress File — a book by Len Deighton and a movie in the sixties with Michael Caine. In. I got to the club and parked a bit after 9. A few of my friends were there as well as Jessica and a few of her friends. We went inside and had a few drinks before making our way onto the dance floor. We danced together, her ass grinded against my cock and balls as I ran my hands over her body. She soon turned to me and kissed me with lots of tounge and passion. Once our lips aparted she whispered into my ear that's she's fucking horny and wants to fuck me. I replied back saying me to and she.