Bev said they danced a lot so I thought they would probably sit as close to the dance floor as they could get. They would probably put at least two ta...les together so I looked around the room and picked what I thought would be the most likely spot.I needed a disguise just in case Bev or Julie did look toward my dark corner. I have 20/20 vision so I bought a pair of heavy horn rimmed reading glasses and punched out the lenses. I never wore a hat so a ball cap with the bill pulled down would. I was a married woman. My hand moved up and down its extended shaft. I am married. I let my thumb tease its big head. I am. I leaned down and kissed its wet head. My breast was being fondled as I did. I opened my legs as an invitation was in order. I took his hand and placed it on my bare thigh. His hand made its way to where I wanted him to touch. I opened my mouth and let its head feel my tongue glide over it. His gentle hand softly touched me, parting my lips that were so wet. I sucked on. “I have no idea why I took my time,” I said between smooches. I don’t know why, but at that moment I paused, took a breath and looked closely at the two women. What I saw took my breath away.I’d always seen Sara as Bud Wilson’s overly patient wife, doing her wifely duty even as he (and often, his daughter Belle) went out picking and bartering and God knows what in the barns and warehouses of America. She always looked good, always in colors that made her hair and surprisingly dark complexion. I sat in the other chairs and the couch in the living room. “I wonder what it feels like to sit here. What does it feel like to walk into the kitchen? What do I look like when a lay my girls atop the breakfast bar?” It felt so good to just walk around as Rhonda. To sit, cross my legs and feel the fabric of my slip move against my pantyhose. I returned to the bedroom and again admired myself in the full length mirror. I stepped closer and rubbed my girls with both hands, I stepped back and.
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