Her flannel covered body was flush to mine, molding to me. For once, her butt was pushed into my pelvis so I could feel every curve, yet my cock wasn'... buried inside the crack.I could feel her left breast in my left hand. I wasn't grasping it, just resting the palm of my hand on it, seemingly of its own volition. The breast was firm and strong but relaxed, the nipple slack in my hand. My right hand was laying on its back, on the mattress, her body on top of the forearm.We were both buried in. They had a little girl they named Angela, and a year later they made second little girl they named Heather. It was about the time the second girl came along Joey figured out Angela wasn’t actually his, but he didn’t care, he loved the little girl like she was his own.Allyson was a pretty good mother, and as a wife Joey had no real complaints. He thought she could have tried a little harder to keep the apartment cleaner, maybe do the dishes more than twice a week, and perhaps wash their clothes. More

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