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She needed the downtime. It was only seven, an hour after sunrise her time, and she planned to take a long bath to relax and clean herself up after their earlier smutty chat.“And I’m probably going to buy a homecoming gift. Slutty lingerie, probably crotchless, pink and soft. You can fuck me while I wear it, and then help me get it off so I don’t get cum on it…”“It sounds wonderful, Jenny.” The cum on his now flaccid shaft had cooled to a sticky clear mass on his crotch. “Baby, I should really clean up. Cum is dripping onto my chair.”Jenny giggled. “The leather one? You better clean up, then. I love you, babe.”“I love you too, Jenny.” They rang off. Dan stood, then pulled his pants the rest of the way off, and used his underpants to clean the sticky mess off himself, and one or two drops that had slid down to the rich brown leather. Bundling them with his pants, he realized he would have to just get new pants and boxers on, since there was cum on both now.When he stepped outside the. Hewas just ten years old when she won the Miss AlabamaPageant. Chris remembered watching the TV program andhe had thought about her a lot since then. Evelyn washis first of many wet dreams when he was an adolescent.While he was a young teenage boy, he jacked off atnight to her picture from a Playboy photo shoot. Chrisjust about wore out Evelyn’s centerfold picture.“The real question is, Chris,” Bill continued. “Can youhandle your wife being with another man?”Chris had been oscillating between feeling guilty bythinking about being with other women and theexcitement of sleeping with the wife of one of theother executives. He also had feelings about his ownwife being with another man. Chris was jealous on onehand but was aroused thinking about his wife gettingfucked by someone else. It was all kind of strange tohim.“Bill, I’m kinda embarrassed to admit this but I’veactually thought about my wife being with another manbefore. It kinda.
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Kuruma had to rest far more than she had had to when taking the same walk last year. By the time they reached their destination the termites had long arrived and set up their booths. ‘My nose tells me you are leading us away from the sweets,’ complained Kuruma. ‘I want to go to the storyteller’s booth,’ said Tobi. Kuruma smiled and let the boy lead her where he would. He really was a considerate child. She couldn’t name one other child who could have so stalwartly resisted his own longing for sweets for the sake of an old woman’s health. Sweet things were no longer kind to her blood. ‘Here we are,’ said Tobi when they were. The booth, that would later be swarming with children and a few adults, was right then the most peaceful place in the camp. ‘Wehiloo,’ greeted a travelling termite. ‘That’s a termite-woman,’ said Tobi, ‘she mans the booth, she waved when she said, ‘Wehiloo’.’ ‘Wehiloo,’ Kuruma returned the termite greeting. ‘We come to trade herbs for pictures and stories.’.

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