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Her voice was muffled; she was sucking her own tit, and a little milk was running from the corner of her mouth. Her other nipple was leaking a thin stream of white, and her fingers were busy in her pussy."Please..." Sandy's thumb was circling her clit as she peeled her hole wide."I don't know..." I hesitated."Our husbands are all pretty much ignoring us, Fred," said Melissa softly. She, too, was stroking her crotch. "We need it, bad. All of us. We talked about you last week and all agreed, you know... if you like what you see... well... you can... you know."I knelt down in front of Sandy, took my cock in my hand, and started rubbing it against her sopping lips. She gasped and twisted, still holding herself open. "Please," she said again, and aware of the others watching us, I slid it in.She was fever-hot and slick as oil. I pumped her deep and slow, all the way in and all the way out; I knew that slamming it in fast and ferocious like I wanted to wasn't advisable in her condition, so. You see, I’ve always been the bold, assertive type, for good and for ill. The neighborhood where I live is filled with religious institutions. There’s a Haitian Baptist church, a Lebanese Christian church, a Methodist Assembly, a Greek Orthodox church, a Jewish Temple and a mosque. Late one night, while walking around, I saw some punks trying to set fire to the mosque. I rushed into the mosque’s courtyard and confronted the bozos. There were three of them. I punched one dude’s lights out but his buddies had knives and they got me good, man. They stuck me like a pig. I fell to the ground, basically a goner. When I woke up, three days later, I was in a room at the Ottawa General Hospital. I had more people visiting me and talking to me that day than in all the previous months I spent in Canada. My aunt and uncle came by to visit, thanking God that I was still alive. My parents had flown in from Texas and we exchanged hugs and tears as we were reunited. The pretty Arab female doctor.
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