Indian Removing Dress

"Thank you," she said. "You are a very good host, Frank." I try to be," I replied. "I don't get many visitors, though."She picked up the mug in both hands and sipped it."Perfect," she announced."So... why are you here? What did I do wrong?" I asked nervously."You? You did nothing wrong," she responded. "I did." You?" I asked. "What could you have done wrong?"She opened her briefcase and pulled out a single sheet of paper, placing it on the desk in front of me. She pointed at the bottom of the page to a blank line."I didn't get you to sign the Auditor's authorization." Really?" I asked. I had never been asked to sign anything before."Yes. It gives me your permission to use your office space for auditing purposes. You were supposed to sign it before I started the audit."I quickly grabbed a pen and signed the paper."I hope you are not in trouble over this?" Oh, no. It's just a formality we are supposed to use," she explained. "The audit is done, you did perfect." So, that's it?" I. There was nobody there, but there had been and recently by the look of the two wine glasses and discarded bottles that littered the coffee table carelessly. A low constant thudding noise registered in my hearing from above and I hurried to the staircase afraid of what I would discover upstairs and, I guess, on some level knowing.I stalled in the entrance to the master bedroom and was at once appalled and unable to look away from the sight that greeted me. My wife lay on her back across the width of the bed, naked and her long brown legs spread as wide as you can imagine. Her hair laid out on the white bedclothes behind her, her pert tits rippling with the force she was being fucked with. There between her legs was Steve Arlen. a very close friend of ours, more like my Eddie Haskell. His well-shaped, muscular hairy frame shown in shadow and light as Steve thrust into my wife to match her moans of undoubted pleasure.I stood there dumbfounded for what seemed like an eternity watching.
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