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She unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the ground behind her. Then she was completely naked except for the shoes and frilly socks she wore. She spread her knees apart, exposing herself to Mr Patel. He simply sat there silently as she traced her hands around her body, over her breasts, pinching her sensitive nipples and moving her hands down towards her clit which she flicked and sent shivers around her body. “Touch me,” she said to the old man. He lifted his hands, but before he got all the way he stopped.“Oh, please, Mr Patel I want you,” she said seductively. In normal circumstances she would never have played with such a thought, but right now it was like she was in heat, she needed to be touched and sucked and fucked. And why not Mr Patel, he had always been so kind to them, and his wife had died, he needed the comfort.So, she moved forward more, and took hold of his hands. She moved his hands to touch her breasts.Mr Patel’s instinct took over and he started fondling her warm. I felt it hit my insides like a powerful jet and I felt my muscles clenching down and milking him. It surprised me that quantity that Derek had seen as just under an hour earlier we’d had sex in the living room, but apparently Derek was the type that recharged rather quickly. Derek slowly pulled out of my ass and I groaned as he pulled the head of his cock back through the ring of muscle. I felt empty all of a sudden, and open, in an odd way. I flopped down and rolled over onto my back, looking up at Derek, who was wearing a content and proud look on his face. I sat back up slowly and the stood up, my knees weak beneath me. Derek followed me back into the living room, both of us finding out clothes and getting dressed in silence. I then remembered the lie I had told my husband. “Shit,” I said. “I told Bryan I was out shopping, I can’t go home with nothing to show for it.” Looks like I’m adding to the credit card with crap I don’t need,’ I thought. Derek went into the kitchen.
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