****************************************************** WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! Oh the hell with this! ****************************************************** This story is meant for minors, and is sort of what your parents do when you are not around. Adults can read it to. You have been warned. ****************************************************** THE WIFE AND I ------------------------------------------------------ Angie Costello pushed her ass against the front door, sighed, and sank to the tiled floor. The last rug rat was off to school and Enrico had just pecked her good bye. In the din of silence her ears still rang from the hectic morning's activities. But she was alone now, as she was every morning at this time. She looked at herself in the sliding mirror closet doors Enrico had just installed in the foyer. My god! she thought as she lifted her sweat shirt and observed her flabby belly, once flat and trim so many years ago. Turning she pulled down just the back of her sweat pants and panties in one movement, tilted her head, and looked at her own ass in the reflective glass. She started to cry. Her thoughts went to her husband, Enrico, and all the fancy ladies at his office. It had been so long since he made love to her, real love. Oh sure, they had fucked often enough, but she longed for the games they played long ago. The despair of "everything" led her to the kitchen sink, and with tears still in her eyes, Angie started to wash her thick black Italian hair. She liked the tall curved faucet just for that reason, and the soft stream felt good against her scalp as she soaped. She did not hear Enrico come back into the house. He had forgotten his briefcase. The man stood in silence at the bent over form. Her weight shifting from one foot to the other while her arms and hands were extended and lost near clear to the elbow with the sudsing action. Enrico removed his expensive jacket, worn especially to impress some new clients. Then thought some more and stepped out of the matching trousers, then his tie, shirt, and ..... well, everything. He creeped up stark naked behind his bent over wife, and molded his body to hers. He whispered in her ear, "It's me," and pulled down Angie's sweat pants and panties to her ankles. Angie gasped and squealed and tried to rise, but Enrico held her down. There was little resistance as he spanked her bare cheeks. She squirmed and kicked away at one leg of the binding pants and panties, which allowed her to bend forward more and open her legs much wider. He spanked her cheeks hard and all over. Then it happened. Enrico started to spank her cunt. Not vicious, but firm and determined. His spanking fingers stung her clit and her knees bucked and flexed as if they had a mind of their own. The warm water still cascaded over her head and neck as she felt Enrico's stiff prick teasing her between her spread legs. His hands had abandoned her bottom and slid up her torso, under her sweat shirt to her naked breasts, that hung unsupported in the sink. Enrico kneaded and squeezed the full tits with the hands of a once road worker to now a road builder. At the same time his erect upturned prick found the entrance to Angie's dripping slit and the two fucked their brains out. END -unless you think there should be more?