I knelt down between them, leaned in, and rested my forehead on her pubic mound. I inhaled her odor and said, “Wow! You smell wonderful. I wish my w...fe smelled like you. I’d eat her pussy more often if she did.”She said, “You can eat my pussy if you want too. My husband won’t do anything down there. I even have to hold his cock, line it up, and stick it in myself. Then afterwards he expects me to suck it dry, lick it clean, and then wash it with a hot soapy washcloth. He won’t kiss me either. We were similar enough in build that undergarments were never a problem as far as size went, and I preferred to wear the bras and pants that she'd worn languishing in the laundry basket.Shoes however were a problem. My size seven feet could hobble about in my wife's size five three-inch heeled sandals. (Always remembering to return the buckled strap back to her settings.) Over the years, I'd managed to strut with confidence around a lonely room but the call of the outdoors was always beckoning,. More

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