That led to another question, just how often did she envisage these ‘events’ happening? ‘Never more than once a month.’ She replied rather to... quickly for my taste. She had been thinking about this, much more deeply than I had realised. The very fact that I had allowed the discussion to move so far into the practical side of the mechanics of these ‘events’ had revealed to her just how attracted I was to the idea. She pounced on that and started to stroke my already pulsating erection and soon. Could they see the mortification burning off her cheeks? She pulled out a cigarette and hid herself behind the comforting veil of smoke while she fumed in equal measures of disappointment and uncertainty as to what to do now. It seemed too early to head back to Clapham Common tube station and the Northern Line. She glared at the women on the other side of the bar as one of them poured more coke from her bottle into the small glass. She couldn’t very well show herself up in front of them, could. Aubrey had always displayed a fantastic taste in lingerie, but the bra that she was wearing tonight was particularly spectacular, and displayed her awesome breasts to perfection. It was a rich plum colour, and like her day-to-day bras, was heavily decorated with lace, however, she’d departed from her usual preference in type, opting for a plunge instead of a full-cup style. This latter decision, of course, meant that the garment served only to emphasise my Mistress’ already impressive cleavage,. . and there she was, my beautiful wife Zaida, on her knees. She was naked again, her pretty brown perky breasts visible to the camera angle, a perfect impish grin on her face. She moved the camera back a little, so more could be seen of her. I watched as she gave her shaved pussy a little rub and let out a small gasp and giggle. ''I miss you baby and miss your cock!'' Zaida said. ''Let me show you what I want to do to you when I see you next...'' I was still thinking about her video from.
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