Tomorrow, Sunday, he would make excuses to his wife, she didn't care if he was there unless she needed an arm to go somewhere anyway. And he would spend the day with Michelle.It was an engine. That was what he heard, a motorcycle engine. But no one around here owned a motorcycle. Why would... That girl, the other one of the task force. The brunette. What was her name? She drove a motorcycle.His study was at the back of the house. The lights couldn't be seen from the front. He hurried over and hit the switch, dousing the room in darkness except for the light coming in the window from the backyard light.He heard the sound of footsteps close to the front door and glanced out his study door, staying well back in the shadows. It was her, the cop with the motorcycle, and the FBI agent. Did they know? Why else would they be here at this time of night? But how did they find out?That didn't matter now. He slipped away from the door to the hallway and crossed the study, opening the big double. She starts to moan and buck more vigorously now and clasps the top of my hands with hers. I relinquish my grip of her mounds and entwine my fingers with hers instead. As we hold hands, in a rare moment of tenderness amongst the passion, she slowly lowers her body down on me, our arms stretching out beyond my head, our faces meeting. She's a formidable woman I think, as we kiss tenderly and I feel her full weight on me, those gorgeous boobs pressing against my own chest, which is currently having trouble containing my wildly beating heart.Slowly Di moves herself higher up my body and my cock pops out. Undeterred, she cradles my head, and pushes her globes into my face. I lick and nibble one nipple then the other, before burying my head between them biting and sucking on the soft, luxuriant pillows.My arousal heightened again, I want to do her missionary style and see these breasts moving to my thrusts, so I roll her over and as I do I spot a red blinking light of a camera partially.
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