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I was mystified as to why Lionel was here though—couldn’t they go through this bondage shit at the office? It was really interrupting my nod.?All right, Lionel?get dinner on the table. I expect you to have cooked something edible by six o’clock. Amaretto said, and she plopped down next to me, giving me a deep kiss, which I heartily returned.As Lionel cooked in the nude, my wife and I made out a bit, and I began kissing her glorious breasts, after having pushed up her pink turtleneck and pulled down her bra. ?You should see this, Lionel?Zits is sucking on my titties!? Amaretto called into the kitchen (Well really, it was a kitchenette, and Lionel could see everything). ?You’ll never get to kiss my full boobs?you don’t deserve it. Only real men get to kiss them.?As I slurped on Amaretto’s huge pink areolas, I heard Lionel crying in the kitchen and looked to my left, and indeed, as he mixed something in a bowl, he was staring at us, and sobbing. At one point Amaretto told Lionel that. The temptation was enormous. But I couldn't, even though her diary convinced me that she'd welcome it. There was still some naggling doubt in my mind someplace. Instead, I started moving down her back, massaging lower and lower, praying that she wouldn't turn around and see the head of my dick staring back at her. When I got to her lower back she arched up a bit, spreading her legs even more and presenting her pussy in full view. I drunk it in like a man dying of thirst, and then I noticed that her panties looked like they were damp. A sign from the gods if there ever was one. * * * * * * * * "To hell with it", I thought. "It's now or never." All of my inhibitions disappeared as my one hand went to massage a silky thigh while the other crept around to caress her incredible, hard abdomen. I heard her breath catch in her throat, but she didn't open her eyes or object or even look back at me. I watched the blood rush to her face, felt her skin warm beneath my hands. As I slowly moved.
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