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Near, yet so far apart, all afternoon. She had watched her ex-husband like a hawk all day, and not just to ensure she avoided being seen by him. That had been intense pressure on her concentration and it tolled on her energy levels.“Carrie was having an affair with her tennis instructor and I never suspected a thing.”He sat somewhat heavily on the sofa, next to her, but also apart after putting the mugs on the coffee table. Then he reached for the milk jug and poured a tiny amount into his mug.. . "Baby, touch mommy's asshole."I ran my finger tip over it. It was hard and sticky and it pulsed. "Yes, yes," she sighed. "Again . . . push it in. Make mommy a slut. Your slut."I put my finger to its center and she pushed her ass back. My finger slipped inside her tight hole. "Oh, baby . . . yes . . . do my asshole." She began to gyrate against my finger. "Watch me wiggle and squirm for you." As I fucked her ass with my finger, I caressed her soft cheeks and pussy with my other. “After John, it has stopped making any difference to me,” she thought and walked back to the bedroom and sat on “his” side of the bed and started running her palm over the sheet as if trying to find him in the creases of the sheet. She missed him and that sent a pang of sadness in her heart. She, for a moment, thought her life has become like her each morning’s coffee. Monotonous and same taste each day. “I don’t want to feel let down with this sadness right in the morning,” she said to herself. She lifted her leg up on to a stool and started to lather her pussy, I watched her rub the soap into her pussy and reach for a razor. I was transfixed by the razor scraping the lather off of her skin revealing the top of her slit and gliding through her pussy lips. There was only so long I could clean my teeth for so eventually I rinsed my mouth and left the bathroom wishing her goodnight. By now my pussy was itching like crazy from Rory and from further visions of Miss Jackson, I lay on the.
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