As was Peter. As was Angie, the woman I'd met onmy way back to my room earlier this morning. I'd thought her name wasAnna, or Annie, and I'm usually...terrible with names, so I was close.Turns out Angie also likes to dress sexy, and was wearing a tight silkblouse, a frilly bra, and a tight mid-thigh length skirt, dark andpleated and her exercise obviously pays off because I caught a glimpseof her from behind when she walked in and her ass looked spectacular.Round and pert and moving inside her. "I'm warning you, Ruth . . ."From the open door to the bedroom, Mrs. Ann Taylor had been watching unnoticed since almost the beginning of the argument. She had just happened to be passing by when she overheard what they were talking about and decided to stop just in case some motherly intervention was required.In some dark place deep inside her heart that was probably best not examined too closely, she had to admit that she'd also come to their door in the hopes of being able to get a good,. More

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