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All he could think about were those legs wrapped around him. Perhaps while he stood in the shed where the pool cover and extra sunloungers were stored... his physical prowess allowing him to support all her weight while his cock sank satisfyingly deep up into her cunt. All he could think about was sucking on her magnificent tits. How would it happen? Would she appear with an apple pie, he laughed heartily at the absurd incongruities this picture presented to his mind. Next morning, he was. . her husband Phillip, was working. He was the only commercial artist she knew who insisted on ear-splitting decibels before he could settle down to work.She tried to recall what it was he'd said this morning he was working on now. The Ford campaign? No, it seems it was food of some sort... maybe I should go ask him, just to let him know I'm home.But there was no need, for Phillip had spotted her from his crow's nest work area, perched on the top half of the two-story main room in a sort of. More

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