After a couple minutes I needed to piss so I went to the down stairs bath because its right next to the kitchen and I didn't want to miss anything. Wh...n I returned to my looking spot my wife was on her knees in front of him blowing him. He was leaned back sipping his drink. She worked on his cock for a good five minutes before she stood up still facing him. I couldn't see anything but her ass..she turned around and while looking straight at me she sat down on his cock. I never saw how big it. I remember going around with her and other boyfriends as a young k** after they divorced and perhaps even before, I'm not sure. In addition, she did/does drink a lot. Not sure I'd say alcoholic, she is a professional and was always very responsible professionally actually. So anyway, she re-married when I was around 8 and remained in that marriage until I was in college. I lived with my dad, but visited her 3 times a year every year, 1 of which was about 2 months in the summer. My sisters lived. "Caitlin stared at Joyce, wondering where her pragmatic friend that she had known for so many years had gone. "He kissed you unconscious?" she asked, not even bothering to try to disguise the wonder in her voice. She knew that Joyce never lied to her, so that didn't even cross her mind. "He must have drugged you, or something." Drugged me? How could he do that? Besides, I would have known. He didn't drug me; he kissed me. Didn't you like it when he kissed you?" Well, yeah. But he only kissed me. No acne now, he noted. Same hair, same smile as she looked around, taking in the room. Smiling at no one and everyone, as he remembered, with a tightening in her chest. He saw her eyes alight on him, and their eyes met. He held it for a second, then looked down at his soup and carried on eating. He could feel her standing over his table. ‘Hello Dad.’ He glanced up at her with dead eyes. He wasn’t her Dad. Not any more. She’d made that clear. ‘I’m not your Dad,’ he hissed. ‘Yes, you are, ‘ she.
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