Her eyes were fierce. “Trust me, honey. This is what she wants. Isn’t it, sweet Sandy?”
Just for a second, Sandy stopped tonguing my wife. “God, f**k, holy sweet tapdancing Jesus, yes,” she groaned. “I’m a hotwife. This is what I want. All I want is to feel that wonderful prick of yours, filling my hot horny cunt all the way up. Please, John. f**k me!”
Like an i***t, I still hesitated. “I should probably get a condom.”
“No!” Sandy said, pleading. Her hand circled my wrist, pulling my fingers out of her. In its place, she grasped my steely, throbbing shaft, rubbing my c**k-head against her soaking slit. Her hips bucked up, coating my tip with her nectar. “Please! Bare!”
“Yes,” Steph said. “Bare. It’s what she wants. And if I know Monica, she’s probably got sweet little Sandy here on sev
