.”Me: “Husband?”Beth: “ ... would massage my sore feet, then we would make love all night long.”Me: “Married? Husband?”Christy: “Reall..., John, you need to close your mouth before bugs fly in.”Beth: “But now, after we get married... Me: “Married?”Beth: “My husband...”Me: “Husband?”Beth: “Can spend all his time between writing by massaging my feet and making love to me. We have to have at least four kids...”Me: “Kids?”Beth: “Two boys and two girls.”Christy, reaching over and pushing up on my jaw. He gently kissed his way down my chest and stomach. I groaned and arched up to meet his kisses as they left a trail of what felt like fire. Each fiery kiss seemed only to increase the familiar tight knot that had formed in my lower stomach. His finger sped up in a gentle incline against my clit, my moans and whimpers filled the large room and I was sure the neighbours heard me. His fingers then wrenched themselves away from my clit and I growled in response. He chuckled. “I heard that hun.” I. More

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