She removes her finger momentarily to apply more oil to her hands and then begins slowly and methodically probing my asshole, waiting for me to relax ...so it goes in easier. Reaching down, she slowly and simultaneously strokes my cock. I get up a bit on my knees to give her easier access as my ass moves back and forth in rhythm with her strokes, her finger going in further and further. I am moaning and groaning and loving the feeling of her penetrating me.Suddenly she stops and I almost want to. All I could do was marvel at her exposed opening to that place that led to so many ways that I was able to feel highs no other mind- or body-altering substances could take me. I wondered what it really felt like for her whenever I stroked and tickled those soft, delicate and moist folds around the outside of her hole. I wondered what triggered her to moan and wail whenever I rubbed and pushed on that pearl of a clit, especially when I slid my fingers inside of her just as I found myself doing. . I heard Linda going upstairs, and was tempted to follow to ask what was wrong.When she came back, I heard her go to the window and draw the curtains. That alerted me to the fact that she was wearing a silken dressing gown, and not only that, a rather lascivious smile. She stood in front of me, and asked, "Did I ever show you what's left of my pot belly?" And she opened her gown wide.My breath caught in my throat at my first real sight of her naked body. Her breasts, brown tipped and erect,. They appeared to be sitting in the same position but they now appeared to be talking easier and laughing more. She occasionally put her hand on his arm as she responded to something he said. His eyes were focused on her although they wandered over her body rather than just on her eyes or face. ‘It looks pretty much the same except that they seem to be more comfortable with each other.’ I said. ‘Good observation. But now I would say that they have broken through the formality barrier and are.