Hot South Indian House Wife Fucks Her Young Office Boss
"What are you talking about?" I replied, feeling the panic welling up within me."I know you're seeing another woman," she said flatly, without a trace of rancor. "So, who is she? Do I know her?" Melanie," I said, stammering a little. "I'm, I'm NOT seeing another woman. I'd never do that to you. Never! I mean that."She gave me a disappointed, even sad sort of expression. "You can tell me," she said. "I do understand why you're doing it. I'm not insensitive to the fact that you have needs I can no longer meet. Okay? So, tell me who you're seeing. Please? I'm not angry with you for it. Honestly."My heart was still pumping hard in my chest, as if I'd just finished running up a flight of stairs.She squeezed my hand in hers, loosely, because of the loss of strength in her muscles from the MS. "Please tell me. I want to know who your seeing. That's all. I'd like to know what her name is. Please?"Taking in a deep breath, and then letting it out, I said: "I'm not seeing another woman. I told. He nodded and smiled at me, knowing what my intentions were for the room. Cam shows, involving him, my bulls; whoever I wanted would be part of my shows and in whatever capacity I chose. Greg put his arm around me and listened intently about the particulars of the house. Money stuff that I had absolutely no interest in. I put my hand on Greg's ass and squeezed. He knew how excited I was about the house. I walked over to the window overlooking the yard and leaned forward, sticking my ass up in the air. I wiggled my ass as I talked to the boys about the beautiful view. I knew Greggy loved my big ass; Greg didn't know that Mikey loved it too.When we were finished with the tour, Mike walked us back to our car. He shook Greg's hand, and Greg told him he would be in touch very soon. Mike took my hand and walked me to the car door. He opened it, then pulled me into a tight embrace; and embrace more suited to lovers than a real estate agent and his client. He whispered in my ear, barely.
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