“Fuck that’s good,” she said, breathing a bloom of condensation onto the mirror, “fuck.” We started to build a rhythm, me thrusting and her ...oving up and down. Very soon I was thrusting so hard that the sound of her arse slapping my belly was almost echoing around the lift. I watched my cock and her pussy, then into the mirror. Christina was braced against the handrail, biting her lips, her eyes half closed. She was breathing quickly. I reached up and cupped her right breast and it made her. It wouldn't last, of course, but it was a painful lesson to me about the limits of my indulgence. On the other hand, weeks later we were recalling Seth's meal and some of the stories we swapped.I had chosen not to go back to San Francisco until the Christmas-New Year's break. Something wasn't quite right in our happy household. I couldn't put my finger on it, but the feeling was there, and it wasn't going away. I thought a week away from Sue and Jan would give me a chance to think about it, but. More

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