It was dark, but she could tell he was naked and his long big manhood was erect under the blankets. She turned away as she saw the blanket fall to the... floor. His manhood was hanging out as he slept. “Fuck, it's big!” she laughed gently.She was getting wet at the very thought of him. She had read his file; he was born into a working class family that had values and morals. He chose the life after he was discharged from the army for no good reason to make ends meet. Looking at his good-sized. She told me not to worry, she had assumed I meant to retain them and had had another set cut on the way to work. ‘So keep them,’ she smiled. ‘You’ll need them if you’re going to keep using my flat as a handy knocking shop. How many girls this time, darling? Three? Four?’ ‘Just the one today,’ I assured her. She looked at me in mock concern. ‘Only one? Darling, you’re slipping. Maybe the stuff is wearing off.’ I promised to show her after work whether it was wearing off. I got to the flat ten. Even when the ugly reality is staring straight at us.Our problems started with little things. One night out of the clear blue, he refused to handcuff me to the wall. Said he was "tired", bad day at work. Okay. I tried to deal with that. I'm a caring person. I understand when someone is tired. But in the back of my mind, it worried me nevertheless. A man doesn't just suddenly stop handcuffing his wife to the wall for no good reason. It's not normal. I knew our marriage was headed for serious. And what a monster it was!It was so difficult for us both to keep looking into each others eyes, be professional, and stay focused on the interview so the people watching at home would have no idea what it was we were really up to.I was moving my fingers all over his beautiful licorice shaft, stroking and fondling it lovingly. Seeing his breathing become more deep and rapid, the increasing sweat on his brow and hearing the soft moaning under his breath got me so excited and made me pump his.