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Sans makeup I may look my age at times from the neck up, but from there down my body, though thickening, still looks youthful. I still keep in touch by text with my old boss Max, and not too long ago I sent him a nude selfie along with my stats. I'll leave the mother/lover connection there, to the psychologists. Anyway Max is always after me to get back in the biz. Though I will add one thing: the last person Kray dated before he began hanging with Jim and me again, and before he and I became lovers, was an artist-turned-cakemaker in her early sixties. He claims MILF's are the hottest thing going these days; the hottest thing in the industry aside, of course, from she-males. I try to patiently explain to Max that I'm too old for this kind of thing, MILF or no MILF; that I'm married; have two beautiful kids; a full-time legit job; I'm still working nights toward my undergraduate degree in English; And also—Duh! These robots will look, move, and feel like fellow humans — but, unless the technological singularity comes early, these robots won’t be excellent conversationalists.According to some recent research, though, they make fantastic prostitutes.

Dressed like something out of an Ayn Rand style-book: sockless penny loafers, chinos, striped button-down shirt with silver Cross pen clipped to the pocket. The silver cross he'd failed to tuck in, dangling from his neck.

" "No, it's OK." "You seemed to be enjoying yourself," Jim alleged.

" "Lying there fingering yourself while you watched me sucking Kray?

I was in the middle, my husband Jim lay on my right and our friend Kray on my left. Jim and I lay on our backs; Kray slept on his left side, facing outward. Our dog Buster was agitating—his nails scratching bedroom's laminate floor. As I like to say, and I've known a lot of horny guys in my time, professionals no less, our friend Kray is...insatiable; incorrigible. Kray and I fucked late yesterday afternoon shortly he arrived; then we had our threesome last night; and now here we were again, Kray's dick in me. Kray has a decent-sized cock, longer and thicker than Jim's, but sometimes he still complains—with a smile, admittedly—that I'm a little too roomy inside.

Between Kray and me was a hand towel covering last night's wetspot. He declared he had to pee and got up, leaving me alone in the center of our king-sized bed. Unfortunately Kray soon returned and wanted to have sex—immediately. As I've explained to him before, that comes with the territory, having given birth twice, to a boy and a girl, both of whom are college-age now.

While I'm outside having a smoke why don't you get Jim to get down on his knees and suck your cock again? I admire your moxy [sic] however, if this is indeed a true-life confessional.

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