Deb panted wildly as I kissed her neck. She pulled her shorts off, dislodging my fingers: now she was wearing nothing but a thong. She pulled me closer, rubbing her body against mine. I moved my hand, but she grabbed it and placed it by her pussy again. I obediently massaged it through the thin material, and she grinded into my hand. I slid my hand into her thong and plunged a finger into her clit.She was writhing in ecstasy, arms spread wide across the wall, pushing her chest into me. For a few minutes, my fingers went fast and hard into her, until she grabbed my hand, lifted it up to her face, and seductively licked her own juices off the finger that had just been inside her. She turned around, her cheek against the wall. "Again" she said, hoarsely. I molded my body against her back, her perfect ass pressing against my vagina and, kissing her shoulders, fingered her again, this time with three fingers."Harder" she whispered, her hand grabbing her own breast. Her other hand was on. Kevin was in his early thirties and a quiet man. Kevin was about 5’10 and was a big stalky man – dwarfing my 5’3″ petite frame. He mostly kept to himself. His wife was vivacious and friendly and used to meet me very often. My husband Kartik had talked to Kevin on occasion and they’d become pretty good friends, playing badminton, going out some times. Whenever Kevin was around, he’d look at me in a kind of strange way. He seemed to be “checking me out” whenever Kartik wasn’t looking. This didn’t bother me and I didn’t feel threatened because he was always so nice to Kartik and me. And besides, I worked damn hard to keep my body in shape, so that both Men and I would like what they saw. I run every day, and workout, and watch what I eat. Although I wasn’t a prejudicial person, I never thought about what it’d be like to be with a man because the life I shared with my husband was quite satisfactory and everything in our life seemed to be going well, including our sex life. One could say.
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