You moan, leaning into his touches, trying to turn around, or reach him to return the favor… He laughs in your ear, nipping at your ear lobe whisper...ng. ‘Not yet my love’ His hands become rough as he gropes, dragging nails across your belly, pushing you up against the speakers, pinning you with his body. He turns you around, his long hair hanging in your face. He looks familiar… Your mind makes the connection. His name is Chris… Sinclair? Yeah, that sounds right… Nails dig into your arms as. ”“But, she’s your wife. You don’t mind her fucking other guys?”“She’s my sister, not my wife. Dad left the family farm to both of us. We’re partners.”“I see.”“Neither one of us ever met a suitable spouse, so, we have stayed single.”“Different strokes for different folks,” I commented.He chuckled. “When we were growing up, Clara was quite a handful. Our folks were so worried that all her fucking around would get her pregnant, they took her to the doctor for birth control. He noticed that their. More

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