"My wife used her free hand to comply, blinking into the horizontal rays of the sun, searching out the eyes of the woman who had suddenly taken contro... but unable to see them in the contrast of light and shadow."What's your name, my pretty little tourist?" Shiann," my wife mumbled. I was amazed at the inexplicable control this woman wielded. Had they drugged my bride's drink back at the resort?"Cheyenne, like the Indian tribe?" No, miss. It's pronounced that way, but my mother was Irish and she. We snuggled for a while and then she got some ideas. Her hand explored my lower regions, first through my clothing then skin-to-skin. I didn’t make anything of it, as that was her normal routine. I didn’t return the favor of running my fingers through her labia. She exposed my genitals as she usually did. She got me hard in the practiced manner and I settled in for a goodnight hand-job.Melissa went a step further by getting me to fondle her breasts. I wasn't a breast man, but I complied with. More

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