She turned to face me, threw the pen she was still holding into my pen-case, closed it, placed it back into my back and looked at me."Now? D'you like ...his? How does your finger look?" It looks..... ehm.... good!" Ah, nice... right answer! And how does it smell?"I took a deep sniff, inhaling the smell of her fresh sexy shit staining on my finger."It smells.... just.... great!" Good, good boy."Once again, she grabbed my dick and caressed it through the fabric of my clothing. I just wished she. “Were they yours or hers?”“Both,” he said. “All three. “Kama Sutra and Perfumed Garden I owned before we met. I had the two oldest marriage manuals, too. She had Our Bodies Our Selves and the two books on sex for teens on the far right. The rest were ours in a way even most of the books we bought after the marriage weren’t. We bought them for us. Does that tell you something about me?”“You think about sex and marriage together.” This sounded obvious. Didn’t everybody? The sex books were called. More

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