The dark haired businessman who had both of his hands free moved to sit behind my wife and began kissing her neck and fondling her full breasts. All the while, she kept up the same slow rhythmic slide up and down the cock in her mouth. As the level of excitement among the group built, it became necessary to find a way to get everybody involved. Raising her arms above her head, my wife indicated to the breast groper her desire to be freed of her top. He pulled the clinging tank up and over her head as she briefly pulled away from the nearly finished blondie. Removing her bra, the businessman dropped to his knees in front of the bench seat and began to lick and suck on her now exposed tits. The other dark haired businessman had removed his hand from his pants by unfastening them and letting them drop to his ankles and was now stroking away on his rigid pole. Reaching out her right hand, she replaced his hand with hers and was now stroking sucking and having her boobs licked all at the. The lecturer looked up at me and paused. I stopped, put up my hand in apology and tried to concentrate on the lecture, but I just couldn't. The murmur kept going.My mind recalled that lunch with Rachael, and suddenly, the buzzing hushed. I ran through the images in my mind: how her hair seemed to glow in the sunlight; how bright and vivacious she'd been when told me her story, how indefinably pretty she was. I remembered that story she told, about her and the black guy. I started picturing them together — her, naked and sweaty, screaming with delight as the anonymous black dude hammered her from every angle.The fantasy switched.Suddenly it was me that was pounding away at Rachael, me who was filling her with baby-making cum, me who lay exhausted on top of her hot, delectable body. I could feel her ample breasts in my hands, her body shaking beneath me. I could taste her sweat on my lips as I nuzzled her neck. I could hear her whispering inaudibly in my ear. It was a low, murmuring.
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