She leaned slightly into him, bending at the waist, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He was acutely aware of the scent of her, like roses. The war...th of her radiated through her dress and his shirt right down to his bones. She was soft, pliable, a tiny little beauty next to him. It was horniness that made him think she was beautiful, he told himself. If he thought she was ugly, he wouldn't want her, so he tried to focus on what was unattractive about her. But at the moment, nothing was. Laura Ford-Ramsey's story was not untypical. Her husband had a number of directorships in the City, keeping him in London during the week. In addition, there were week-end invitations to shooting parties and gold tournaments. She wondered whether he had another companion for his London bed, but the possibility didn't disturb her greatly. He was no great performer when he was at home, she said, but he kept her in a style she wouldn't be able to afford on her own. Happily, the combination of his. That, however, was as close as he’d ever got near to fulfilling his fantasy ... He’d engraved the memory of her firm, tight arse, as always in the office in a skinny black pencil skirt, pressed against his cock, but, he’d hoped for more by now. He wanted more. Pamela had occupied a central place in his mind ever since he’d first seen her wearing a small string bikini out by the pool. The way her fair greying pubes were sprouting at the side thrilled him. Starting that day, which had ended with. She was back to living a five day week. I rushed inside the bedroom. She stood radiant in her blue, pink flower bespeckled, house dress. Even her hair had magically transformed itself into a piled bouffant. I tackled her in the middle of her room and drove her back down upon the bed."What in mercy's name?" She cried out.I fumbled for my cock, pushing my pants down my legs. I straightened up and gave her a good look at my rampant organ.Just like the previous night, she froze, this time spread.
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