I did so we enough reverence and difference that it made him stare at me. I would take one shoe off and bring it up to my nose and mouth to smell and ...ick at the same time. my brain was on fire. He just observed as though trying to figure out if I was for real or crazy. I was both. I stuffed each sock in my mouth as though they were g****s and sucked the juices out of them. He allowed me to take his pants off, but not his briefs. I could see the outlined of a monster white dick. All the forces. My sex life with him had been rich and fully rewarding for me. My husband knew exactly how to please me, how to make me scream in pleasure. He called me his Stradivarius."I can play you like a master. I can make you sing, Carol," he would whisper in my ear as I groaned in joy.I had dated many different men since he left me. Some I bedded. With none did I find the deep and personal joy I found with my husband. None made me cum like he did. I missed that more than I missed him, I fear. And, after. More

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