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I turned your head toward the sounds but couldn’t see anything. Meanwhile those delicious hands were tracing along the side of my body. There was no...rush, no sound, just the hands as they slowly slide lower and lower. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but excited too. I had talked of this with my husband, but never dreamed he would make it come true for me. Now the hands were tracing around the waistband of my panties, across my stomach. I can feel every hair on my body stand up as they drifted. I felt fat and ugly, I worshiped the porcelain goddess far too often—morning sickness is really disgusting, what a rotten way to start the day, and to interrupt it, too; it isn’t just mornings—and we agreed that we were going to settle for two.Hugo got them started early. He’d tell them bedtime stories from his own childhood, often continuing ones that left them on tenterhooks from one night to the next. When they were old enough he gave each of them George’s books to read; George did four. She had become friends with a girl at work named Susan, who had also recently moved to DC. Susan was a hot single girl with big natural boobs. One day Susan asked my wife if she wanted to hang out on Friday night. My wife quickly accepted and they decided they would go bar-hopping in DC and see how many guys they could get to buy them drinks.At the third bar they ran into a guy from work named Matt. What my wife did not know was that Susan had been fucking Matt for a few weeks. After flirting. In my college teaching I had continually met lovely young partners, and had kept telling myself how great that was, but now, forced into time to think, I had begun to realize how empty that was. But the women that I longed to meet now were as remote as the one whose shape I had just seen on the station platform. Karen looked out on the same scene and seemed to focus her thoughts somewhere outside the window. I saw her smile, and then our attention turned again to our smaller circle around the.
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