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Moaning, my head falls back as your lips slide from my mouth, across my jaw, nibbling a path down my neck to my breasts. Your mouth envelopes one nipple pulling it deep inside, scraping and biting it with your teeth and flicking your tongue across it as your hand squeezes my other breast, your fingers plucking and pinching the nipple. All the while your cock is pulling almost all the way out before slowly gliding back deep inside me. Your mouth switches to my other breast paying equal attention to it, as your hand slowly traces a path to my thatch, your fingers seeking and finding my swollen clit. My internal muscles start to pulse, pulling your hard cock even deeper inside me, my juices flowing heavy now, drenching your cock and hand, your thumb teasing my clit bringing to the very edge of climax before soothing me back down, only to bring me back to the edge. You do this again and again, driving me mad with the desperate need to climax. Whimpering, begging you ‘Don’t stop, please. In a way that was the situation with Charlies and Alice's marriage, it sailed along, as it had done for decades without any intimacy, one held together because of obligation and tolerance. A union where communication consisted of just enough words to keep the ship of state on course, however, one where both parties did their own thing without any interest shown by the other. For Alice is was community work, involving herself totally to the extent that she was more out than in. As for Charlie he was occupied with more manly things that also included attending 'swingers do's' for on that male/female association it didn't exist in his abode.For Alice one of her main interests in the 'community' was working with the influx of refugees, a subject that was a red rag to a bull as far as Charlie was concerned. He didn't considered them refugees but able bodied males of the Islamic mythology who were interested in gaining enough influence to be able to alter the legal apparatus of the country.
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