I wasted no time in giving Peter a blowjob we would not soon forget. Then we showered together and dressed before his uncle arrived.
When the doorbell rang, I gave Peter one last lingering kiss before turning to the door. Peter stopped me and dabbed at a tear with his handkerchief. "Don't cry, ma chere. We will savor each other again, soon!" he promised.
I was feeling so sorry for myself I wasn't very gracious. I barely noticed that Jacques LeClerque was as handsome, in a more mature way, as his nephew. I also missed the knowing look that passed between them.
We visited for a few minutes and Peter took me in his arms for a long, loving kiss. Right there in front of his uncle, who knew I am a married woman. And I didn't care! I licked my lover's tongue with mine and ground my desperate twat against his thigh as he squeezed my quivering ass. I noticed that Jacques was nodding approvingly and I was defiant. And when I waved goodbye I could feel the tears on my cheeks.
I was totally restless for the rest of the day. When Frank and the boys got home I was torn between confessing to him and ravishing him. I settled for the latter. As soon as dinner was over and the boys were in bed, I led Frank to the bedroom, stripped off his clothes and pushed him onto the bed. There wasn't much foreplay. Instead, I smothered his face and mouth and chest with kisses as I struggled to get my own clothes off. Then I was on top of him, backing against his hard rod and riding him to a glorious climax.
And all the time I was struggling with the question of how I can go back to the gentle, yet boring sex life I have with my husband after my black experience?" I am hooked on Peter's beautiful black cock.
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