‘I hope you’re happy, Asmodeus,’ he whispered. *** Silence lay like a heavy blanket over the darkened house. It was well into the witching hour ...�� the hour when regret, self-reproach and self-recrimination came out to play, when the memories of carefree youth and innocence clashed against the realities of middle age and guilt. The woman sat in her darkened office, scrolling through photographs on her laptop. Her husband had long since gone to bed, eschewing the customary good-nights and. ” he pleads.Danielle pushes her chair back from the table and spreads her legs more, inviting him, “Here... get in here.” He stands right between her legs, looking in wonder down at the pink toy openly teasing her clit that's peeking out from under her trimmed pubic hair, his boner standing tall and pointing at her face. He takes a sip of his tea and strokes her hair as she closes her legs and grinds harder, bumping knees with his legs. “Up here,” she tells him, patting the table.“Um.... More

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