The sounds of our grunts and groans filled the bathroom, accompanied by the squelching of her wet cock and her hips hitting mine. My groans were deep ...and masculine, and full of need. Hers were soft and feminine, almost a whimper, and full of desire for release.My cock hung between my legs, now hard and dripping precum, but I did not touch it. I wanted to savor nothing but the feeling of being fucked by my wife. The rhythm of her thrusting was driving powerful and consistent waves of pleasure. She surprised me again by saying that would be something she would try. I at first didn't believe her, so I pushed the subject more. I ask if she would like it to be two girls one guy or two guys one girl. She told me two girls one guy. Then I ask with who? She asked for suggestions and I offered up a friend named Alice. Mary liked her as an option and told me to set it up. Now I sort of thought she wasn't serious, I teased her not to temped me because I would find a way to make it happen. She. When he’d said ‘Meet me up there. I’ll be right behind you.’ he’d pointed at this small balcony and it hadn’t seemed as high or as dark or as removed as she felt standing there in the shadows. She wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. She’d made up her mind about him- or she thought she had. Maybe her being there, alone, waiting was sign enough that her decision had been hasty. The crowd down below was oblivious to her. Her inky curls and the black cocktail dress made her a shadow in the dark.. I taught classical art history at Cheltenham Ladies' College. And what line of business are you in, Mark?”“Computer graphics, although I originally studied fine art.”“Favourite artist?”“Caravaggio.”“Now you’re talking!” Madeline brightened and gave a girlish giggle. “I remember once showing a slide of one of his altarpieces to a group of pubescent sixth formers. One of the cherubs at the Madonna’s shoulder has an amazingly-realistic willy, said to have been modelled on one of the artist’s.