Gasp .We had been married for a couple of years and things were very tight in other words we were broke and living in London. I have always wanted her...to wear clothes that showed of a lot of flesh... well her tits and legs. It was great she would let me choose the clothes that she would wear when we went out. She used to have some tops that hard large armholes and from the side her boobs was visible these tops was always a first choice. She isn't a natural exhibitionist but will dress for me. She snuggled just a little towards me, so I leaned over and kissed her on the lips.She kissed me back, at first discreetly and then responsively, her tongue encouraged by the obvious eagerness of my own. My right hand roamed her back and settled on her waist. As the kiss continued I slipped it under the blouse and stroked her side.She put a hand on my knee and I knew we were in business. I moved my hand to her back and ran it up and down her spine. She moved her own hand up my leg until she was. She looked around, and was horrified. Every wall was plastered with smut: naked women in incredibly lewd posses doing unspeakable things. What sort of pervert was this man? What was she doing here alone with him? She turned and bolted for the door."Oh, don't go yet," said her tenant.She stopped dead in her tracks.What was wrong with her?"Come back here and stand in the middle of the room."Again, she obeyed."Would you like a beer?" asked Charlie Ryan."I don't drink." she replied. I squat down, into a backward sitting position, on the open lidless toilet, and lift her skirt. As suspected, no panties. Her pubic area’s neat low haircut is exposed to my face. I put the tip of my nose into the top of her slit. My tongue, finds it’s way to her lower area, tasting her, embedding her, to my memory. All the while, we could hear other women entering, and leaving adjoining stalls. The click of heels against the tile floor, the steady stream of others relieving themselves, due I’m.
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