Her husband is behind me, driving his solid, rubbered mass into my cunt. I bend my elbow, place my hand at the back of his neck and tell him to "Let go". I want him to fuck me as I kiss and lick his wife and tell her how beautiful she is. Which I have done, which I'm still doing. I repeat it to her husband. "She is so beautiful. Her hair, her face. I love the taste of her skin". Husband buckles at the hip.
I look at him, we catch each others eyes, the sea and the grass, green and pale blue. His mouth is muzzled in her cunt and we stare at each other as he pleasures her and I kiss her chest. He touches my cheek and gives me a small tap, enough to remember who I am pleasing, who I want to please. He talks to her and I feel a twinge of jealousy but block it out. I think "Don't speak to her how you speak to me", but rationalise in a drunk, yet sober enough mind, that I do it myself. It is not distinctly us, just distinctly passion filled.
I do like the fun we have. With each other, with other people. I lay on my back I get eaten. I get bored. I get up and drift off.
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