She turned, water dripping from the mass of black hair at her crotch. She poured soap across her chest and started to massage it into her skin, rubbin... her nipples, pinching them. Pulling them. Suds ran down her body making a white froth on her springy pubic hair.She looked me in the eye, then her eyes roved down my hard, exercise pumped body. Her gaze fell to my cock, now hard and pointing out in front, the foreskin starting to stretch across the purple helmet beneath."My husband is. "Good to see you, Chrissie! Come in and come to the kitchen. Salad okay?" Oh ... fine, thanks..." We've been following your career, you know," Trudy waved at a chair in the kitchen and Chrissie sat. "In fact I heard you play a year or so ago. Travelled to Cambridge for it ... well worth the effort." Trudy sat, too. "Fruit juice okay? I'll make tea or coffee if you like?" Juice is fine..." Help yourself to ... whatever you like..."There was near silence for a while as they ate."But if I may say. More

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