“You smell African,” he said.I was still holding the book when she emerged from the showed. “I read your story,” I said. Her skin was warm and...damp and clung to the terrycloth white town that covered her torso. “My story?” “She uses saffron and it drives Albert crazy. Saffron, the smell of Africa.” “It’s been driving me crazy, too,” she said, “but I’ll need more than the smell of saffron.” “I’d like that, too,” I said as she dropped her towel. I took her right there in the aura of saffron. A slave to the pleasure of watching her firm ass pound into me as she invoked visions of my daughter's body. I knew instantly that she was right. In my heart I knew that so much of my protests and worries about being here had to do with being confronted with my desire for Lily. Knowing my wife knew this, and better yet, enjoyed this, was so arousing I felt like my dick grew an extra inch inside of her. As Diane continued to rub her clit and pound me hard, I took over and grabbed her hips. More

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