My Desi Wife

Dylan grasped the balls of the dildo, taking it from me and grinding it hard into himself, pushing his dick into my hand with some measure of desperation. “Fuck me,” Dylan panted, and Scott nodded at me, grinning because he’d told me so. Dylan mounted me and leaned way forward so our chests were together. I wasn’t as deep as I wanted to be, but a good portion of my dick stayed inside. Scott stood behind him and entered him, too, pushing hard to get his bone into what was already a snug fitting ass. I thought Dyl would hurt, but he moaned instead, like it was pleasurable. I tried to move but Scott stopped me. “You stay still,” he instructed, and then he went to town on my boyfriend’s ass. Scott drove his dick in hard with fast thrusts, and the whole thing surprised me. It shocked me that it felt good to have Scott’s cock stroking in there with me, and I was absolutely astounded by how turned on Dylan was. “I’m gonna come,” he whispered right into my ear, and I could feel his hard. Besides, I had no wish to and shortly after I was asleep again.I woke again much later and was alone; the room bright with sunlight. I felt ... almost normal. Normal, that is, but lethargic and unwilling to get up. I had to move just because I had a full bladder, but after staggering to and from the bathroom I was happy to lay down again but with a clean mouth and an empty bladder. I turned on the radio. I'm not too fond of popular music, but the local station played a mixture of older stuff I quite liked, jazz, classical and easy listening. More to the point, there was an hourly news bulletin. As I lay there I was informed (as a part of the news bulletin) that a paroled prisoner had been returned to jail after breaching his parole conditions, pending trial for offences committed since his release. I sighed, relaxed and closed my eyes. I don't think I went back to sleep, but it's hard to tell. I was aware when Betty came back into the room, hung a blanket over the curtain track to.
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