She looked at the other wives' feet, and sure enough, all of them were wearing white high heels... but that's where the similarities to Tara's outfit ended.Every single one of them was dressed like a slut. They still had their torment-bras on, but little more. Some wore miniskirts and blouses and some wore mini-dresses, and they all had their required bras and heels, but none of them wore garter belts, stockings or nylons, and it was clear to Tara - due to the skimpy skirts and dresses on these. As your legs flew up your skirt landed around your hips, saving me the trouble, and giving me a spectacular view of you luscious, still fairly freshly fucked pussy. In fact some of my cum was oozing out of your slit.I grabbed a couple of pillows from the head of the bed and propped them under your bottom in the hopes that you would have a better view of me going down on you in the mirror.The bed was big enough, that by laying kitty korner there was enough room for us both to stretch out. I. She caught my eye and waved. Roberta stiffened for a moment when I took my hand from her to wave back, but she saw Sara and a message passed between them, a look, a nod, something like that. Roberta moved out of my arms.“Can we go to the hot tub, don Alejandro?”“Of course. Sara?”This time we stripped together. No going back down to my bedroom for a swimsuit. Roberta sat between us and it was easy to kiss her and touch her everywhere I could reach. Sara kissed Roberta’s cheek once or twice and I. She took her own taller glass, filled it to the brim with ice, liberally poured Smirnoff Watermelon Vodka and topped it off with Sprite. She took a long drink before joining him on a stool on the other side of the bar, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘I can’t believe that you’re here, sitting in my living room.’ ‘Well, I am.’ ‘So what did you come here for?’ ‘For VelvetPie. You are her, aren’t you?’ ‘Are you planning to sue me?’ ‘No.’ She nodded. ‘Okay then. I’m VelvetPie.’ ‘What’s your real.
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