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You’ve told me about your wife. I’ve seen her picture. She’s gorgeous. Social. Accomplished. Frigid. Borderline cruel. Invite me over for drinks; I’d love to have a talk with her. 

I respect your privacy. I keep your secrets. I actually manage to charm her a little as she sits next to me on your couch. It’s all I can do not to reach out and sample her body with my hands. Or mouth.

She starts to yawn. I’m looking her up and down. “Gee, the wine’s hitting me hard tonigh-” She collapses back on the couch. I take a last drink of wine, admiring her hair spread around her. Her head’s fallen back, her mouth open. She’s breathing deeply, evenly. She looks so peaceful. Defenseless.

“Dump that,” I say, indicating her wine glass. I stand and swing her legs up on the couch, pull her down to a prone position. 

The skirt of her dress rides up to her waist. I rip the leg hole of her lacy black panties and push them apart to expose her juicy, neatly trimmed cunt. I pull the neckline of her dress below her tits. I have to take a moment to play with them. Squeeze them. Slap them and watch them jiggle.

I take off my pants. I straddle her face, trapping her arms with my legs. “Be ready to take this cunt, baby,” I say to you. I shove one of her legs off the couch so she’s wide open for you. You hurry to undress and as you reach the couch, I grab her nipples and twist hard to wake her.

NSFW: yes

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