I believe Drew and Sara were twelve or thirteen when the shit finally hit the fan, and that was over five years ago now. For a while, the police would be over for domestic issues on a regular basis - it was just an ugly mess. Oftentimes when there was trouble, the kids would run to our house to take refuge from their fighting parents, and they would usually end up spending the night. But after their parents’ divorce was final and they moved, we never saw or heard from Drew or Sara again. > > > > > It was a little after seven o’clock on a Friday night. Tara was working a rare late shift, but she was due home by ten o’clock - so my wife and I had the house to our self. Actually it felt like old times, as we had a nice dinner together and enjoyed each other’s company. Not long after Vicki and I sat down in the living room to relax and watch TV, the front doorbell rang. By now my wife had changed into her typical evening garb (that Tara started), sexy panties and short t-shirt, so at. We both came in a climatic euphoria that shook the beams in the ceiling. We rested for a few minutes then started again, this time, however, I wanted to make love, slow passionate love. I cradled her head in my arm and kissed her softly. She moaned with delight as I caressed the erogenous zones behind her ears, down the nap of her neck, around her shoulders, and then moving to her breasts. She arched her back and whimpered as I gently pinched her nipples. I worked my way down the tight muscles of her flat stomach and on to the recently shaved mound that lay in wait between her legs. I brought her to one climax after another before lovingly slipping my cock into her eagerly summoning hole. I moved with a burning passion that comes only from the heart. It was after two the morning by the time we were both spent. We laid with our bodies intertwined. It was now or never, I thought. “Honey?” “Uh huh,” she answered as if in a dream. “I have to ask, you’ve never said anything. Do you.
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