At least I had found that Amy was not playing a joke on me. Amy. My God she said she would once, sometimes twice a week. Could I go again? I wasn’t ...ure.Sunday morning I had breakfast and rang Amy. Stan answered “Hello Sally. How are you?” he asked. “I am fine thanks. How about you?’ “It’s all good at this end honey. Anyway here is Amy”. “Hello Sal, what’s up?” “You devil. You put that address in my purse” I said, trying to sound angry and failing miserably. “Yep, I did. Did you go honey?” she. Knowing he was in an impossible position to be able to wank over our mutual fantasies made my already bad bad mind work overtime. It was a very good idea he told me. But only on the condition that he could watch me slap my clit at the same time. I told him I was full of good ideas and that ‘yes that would be an option’. He said he hoped that my cunt was wet. In reply I said it was wetter than he could ever imagine. I wanted him to finger it, just to make sure. He said ‘nah…I’m going to ram a. More

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