“Miss Rebecca… My lady of the Aisles ofEuropean Poetry… my love… it is so lovely to see youeach day as you peer over the forgo...ten volumes andtomes of such beautiful language… the words of lostlove, forlorn angst, and unrequited longing.Your own beauty haunts me day and night as the words youread. Like an Italian sonnet of perfect structure whichwithin its literary walls comes forth problem andsolution so profound. Oh, I seek the day I might holdyou, touch you,. I was getting even more aroused now, and I spun her head back toward me and gave her a long passionate kiss on the lips. I continued to kiss her as I worked my hand up underneath the front of her shirt. I began to fondle each of her lovely breasts as she grabbed at my cock through my pants. A few minutes had passed, and I moved my hand down to the top of her pants. I slowly unbuttoned them, and then slid my hand down inside them. My wife’s panties were extremely damp, and her body shook and. More

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