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As Anju moved her fingers over it, Satish stood motionless. Anju very slowly took it in her hand. She was enjoying its heat upon her palm. Feeling its heat, Anju closed her fist over it and then started to give some momentum to her hand. Satish felt her jacking his prick. He could not let her continue as any moment he feared he may shoot, so he pulled his prick from her hand and held her straight.Satish then went on to finish giving her a bath. Anju drifted her hand down and yanked his Lungi out of his body. For the first time Satish stood naked in front of her. He saw her eyeing his cock and this made it gather more vigour. It was very erect and lively. As Satish felt her gaze arousing him, he turned and picking a towel started to dry Anju's body with it. After he had finished drying her, Anju took the towel from his hand and draped it over her body. As soon as Anju had draped the towel to her body, Satish pulled her into his arms and looked into her face. Anju's eyes were glowing. “I took it to mean that it was okay to screw you as long as I didn’t fall in love with you.” “Hmmm,” I nodded. “I take it we did okay, then?” “It’s a start,” Sandra answered. “But just a start.” “You mean there’s going to be more?” “Oh, hell, yes!” she said emphatically. Shayla went through her regular routine when she returned that evening. She parked the car in the drive and took the dog out for her walk without even checking in with me. It was a full fifteen minutes before she unlocked the interior door and walked into our kitchen. Sandra had a meal ready and I sat in front of the computer. “Well, this is nice,” Shayla said as she dropped her keys and bag on the counter. “Very domestic. The two of you feeling guilty?” “Not in the least,” Sandra answered. “I can tell by the way my husband is avoiding me that he’s been bad,” my wife laughed. “He wasn’t bad,” Sandra grinned at her. “He was good. Both times.” Shayla laughed. “Okay. I want details.” “Sit down,” Sandra directed. “I’ll.
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‘I’ll stop kissing then shall I?’ he asked, his eyebrow cocked, and sat up, leaving me lying on the bed, handcuffed, and prone. ‘Oh no.’ I said. ‘I’m not begging this time. I’m not giving in!’ I was not as confident as I sounded, and wondered how long I’d be able to last. Peter stood, a huge grin on his face, and reached for the peacock feather I had discovered on a walk one day, and placed in a vase by my bed. I’d thought it was pretty, and it was a nice addition to my room. At least, I’d thought it was. Looking at his face, I was starting to wonder what was going to happen. He took the feather, and gently touched the tip along my body, flicking it across my breasts, before slinking it past my belly button, and around my thighs. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the desperation I was feeling. Nothing my previous boyfriends had done was anywhere near as fantastic as this, and I could feel my brain desperate to give in, and beg him once more. He could see my frustration building.

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