Back in those days, 1966, it was not an easy thing to do. Girls were different then, they saved that thing for marriage in small towns like Eau Claire... There was this girl just a few houses down the block, Judy was her name. A small girl, dark hair and petite. She was the classic "girl next door". Not very popular and not the Cheerleader type at all, kinda cute in her own way. She had a crush on me and we rode the same bus to school. She was a Sophomore at the time. We became friends and I. His tongue flew in all directions, tasting and sampling and savoring.Shivers raced through the woman, rocking her hard. She balanced herself on the balls of her feet and kept her thighs open, at the same time begging the dog not to stop. The animal's tongue was hitting all the right places, and she wanted the wonderful sensations that were rolling through her mind to continue.And continue they did. Rockets burst in her head when the dog's thick red tongue scraped against her clit and wreaked. Once in a while I have to indulge. It is like the need to plunge into a shimmering pool on a scourging day. Like the soothing balm on a parched skin. A cooled can against a sweaty brow.You get it, I'm sure.It is my escape from yawning boredom. It saves my life. And George's, my husband's, for that matter. So in the end, I guess I do it for him, too. In a way.But yes, it can't last. I push myself closer to disaster with every step. The lusting for the thrill will be my undoing. Our undoing.But. “Would that be OK with you? A stranger fucking my ass right now?”“Ugh, ughhh, sure; ugh, ugh, anything you want,” he managed.She turned her head and looked Fred in the eye then, smiled, and pointed to her ass, which was pointed towards the voyeur. “You hear that neighbor? Come on over and fuck my ass!”Fred was stunned. But in seconds he had wrapped a robe around himself and hurried out his backdoor and through the gate in the fence. “Hi! My name is Fred, he stammered.” Now he was only a few.
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