She started to grind up and down on me, too fast for me to keep sucking on her tits. They rubbed all over my face.“Good, move your hips, you need to fuck me now.”I started pounding into her, not worrying about hurting her, not worrying if it felt good for her, just slamming into her cunt.I tried to keep rhythm with her movements. Each move sent intense sensations through my body. My breathing became more heavy with each thrust.“Yessss!” she hissed. “Do it! Harderrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”Suddenly, sensations exploded in my body & I filled her pussy with my cum.“Sooooo gooood!” she whispered as she moved her hips slowly back and forth, her eyes closed. I watched her, as my limp cock slipped out of the wet pussy.Bhabi moved & slipped by my side. We stayed like that for quite a while.Biting me on my ear lobes she whispered, this is your second lesson & more are to come. Your wife is going to remember me for making you a prefect lover.After a while Bhabi pulled the towel lying nearby & cleaned my. The next morning Marge was up first, and I woke up to the smell of fresh-brewed coffee. I went into the kitchen to find Marge sitting in her usual chair, hands around her mug of coffee, staring into it as if it held the secrets of the universe. I grabbed my coffee, sat down opposite her and the silence was deafening.I waited semi-patiently as Marge screwed up her courage to tell me her deep, dark secret.“Steven,” she began. Uh-oh, she was using my formal name, this WAS serious.“Steve, I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest about how my marriage ended.”“What? I thought it ended when your husband Dave died?”“I suppose it did, technically, but there’s more to it, as Paul Harvey used to say, ‘The REST of the story,’” she said with a rueful smile.“About two years before he died, Dave changed. It was subtle at first; he didn’t joke as much; he wasn’t as quick to laugh at things. I would ask him what was wrong, but he always gave me the answer that guys hate when women say it to them,.
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