She gasped, not so much from what he did as from what it meant as a first step toward an end that she still wasn't sure she wanted.He continued to run his hands over her lower back, then on her stomach, then to the fastening on the bra she first let him under three months before, and no one else ever. The hooks came undone and his hands slid under and around to cup her breasts. His thumbs circled her nipples and brought them erect, then she drew in her breath when his fingers twisted them.The shirt and bra came off and he lay her back to caress her breasts and dart his tongue into her mouth. She put her hand up to unbutton his shirt then she timidly touched the hair on his chest. After a little she moved her hand down to the bulge in his pants, a thing she had never done before. To anyone.His hand went to the top button and then to the zipper on her jeans. Here she cooperated, helping him take them off. When she lay back wearing only panties, he pulled her to him and put his hand on. My plan was that I would not show Susan any desire on my part to discuss the events of Friday night or any inclination to forgive her for what she had done, or thought she had done.When I got back to my motel room I opened my brief case to get something to read and found the pictures I had taken of Susan with Bob. As I looked at the picture of Susan laying there with Bob's cock in her hand and cum all over her face I felt a little pang of guilt which was quickly replaced by a feeling of lust when I looked at the picture that showed my semen leaking from Susan's pussy. As I felt an erection beginning to build I thought about calling Susan and asking her to forgive me.Luckily sanity barged into my room in the form of the chamber maid. I grabbed my jacket and sunglasses went for a long walk. As I walked, I thought about the call I had almost made. I was going to ask Susan to forgive me? What the hell was the matter with me? I caught myself saying, half out loud, "I have to stay with my.
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