It was three years since I had routinely been to the Laundromat, but after splitting with my boyfriend it became a Sunday tradition. No Sunday roast w...th my parents, instead I spent the nicest part of the day sitting on a hard little wooden bench. You see, Peter got the washing machine in the split, and I hadn't got around to replacing it. As much as I hated to admit it, I still needed to feel hard done by; reflecting on how our relationship had failed.I'd been with Peter for 5 years, and the. He was definitely her type, big and strong, and a good dancer. Over the course of several songs I watched him grope my wife's ass and breasts as they spun around the dance floor. They danced for quite some time, and I was content to watch the two of them together, partly relieved that I didn't have to dance so much, but mostly just turned on watching my wife bump her ass back into a stranger's crotch.It might have been an hour or more before she had her fill. Then it was her pulling the guy. More

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