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It appears after his dancing foreplay the first time on the floor he took it further the second time first unzipping her dress so he could play with her nipples, then with help from Anne he slid the zip up so his fingers found she wasn't wearing panties. Finding that she was damp and willing he unzipped his own fly easing out his cock they maneuvered around until it was guided into her moist love tunnel, they continued dancing/fucking until they both orgasmed. It appears that Anne walked from the dance floor to the ladies toilet with the guys semen running down her leg, cleaning up she rejoined him before coming back to the table. I have to admit the idea of my wife being fucked with so many people around her without them knowing turned me on to the point I would have liked to have done it myself but Anne whispered that she was more interested in another session this time horizontal on a bed.Twenty minutes later in our hotel we were in our suite with Anne in the bedroom with Arthur. He thrusted with more urgency and his head tilted back. She couldn’t see his face now but imagined him to have his eyes closed with his mouth partially open to let some pleasure out, just in case he exploded. She was right! Then as suddenly as she went down on him, she rose to her feet, letting his cock loose as she did so. He looked at her as if she’d just stolen his wallet or something, although he was still thrusting his pelvis somewhat. Looking at his cock, she started to knead her breasts and tweak her nipples with her one hand. ‘Keep that cock hard, you’re going to fuck my pussy so hard it’s going to hurt,’ she ordered, whilst using her free hand to peel off her black, lycra leggings. She bent forward to pull one trouser leg over her trainer, briefly taking him in the mouth again as if by accident. He groaned. She stood up straight, spread her legs to about shoulder width, placed one hand on her neatly-trimmed pussy, and spread her lips a little to expose her pinky-red inner.
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One look at his face said more than she wanted to know. She fainted at his feet. When she came to Mark told her that her husband was riding home with him in this storm. A bolt of lighting, or perhaps the crash of thunder, no matter, something had spooked her husbands' horse. Thrown, he landed on a rock, which caved in the side of his skull. He never moved again. Her husband was dead.Shaking her self mentally she hurried down the stairs. By the door she grabbed her books and out she went. Two beautiful horses stood, saddled, and perfectly groomed, at the foot of the stair. She wasn't afraid to ride. Her husbands' death wasn't the fault of the horse. Or anyone's. It just was.Touching Anthony's back, out of habit, simply to let him know where she was, Amanda stuffed the books into the saddlebags and mounted. The spirited horse pranced, eager to be off. The surly footman aided Anthony, much to his annoyance. Once mounted, they turned and began their journey.Anthony's mare had been with.

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