"I was only seeing one of them. He's name was Harry. I had dinner with them. They must have put something in the drink. I don't know what went on" You...full a shit. You were consenting this" I said. "How could you do that" I was dating one of them - Harry. We were having dinner and two of his colleagues came. We drink some shots. You know, saluting shots. As I was becoming sleepy I felt them touching my inner thighs below the table. I then asked to go laid down. They drove to their room. I. " and off he went.I was laying there, trussed up like a turkey waiting to be stuffed when the thought occurred to me that my bottom was facing the door to the hallway and if the postman looked through the letterbox, he would see right up the hall and right up me. That idea started to turn me on and I was feeling quite sexy when I thought that I heard a squeak, then another, then another, then it stopped. Then I thought that I heard the door to the garden open but I wasn't sure. Then I felt. ’ You rise to kneel and yank my panties off then quickly remove your boxers and position yourself between my spread legs. Surely you can see the hunger in my eyes as I see yours. You press yourself against my dripping slit and forcefully bury your cock deep within me as I let out a cry. You know I want it hard, you can read me so well. With as wet as I am, you don’t have ease into it, you don’t have to be gentle. And you aren’t. You pound yourself hard within me and I wrap my legs and arms. We were, in actuality, both sexual sadists at heart. This aspect of our psyches didn’t emerge until we had been married. It was only by chance that I happened on the opportunity for Claire and me to utilize our proclivities.I had gotten, at that time, a fairly lucrative job with an architect firm at $75 per week, and Claire and I were happily ensconced in a rental three bedroom bungalow. Our sex life was exciting, but we still felt it lacked that one element we had discussed, and since we.
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