We don’t fuck anymore
It’s strange how we don’t fuck anymore, only quick blowjobs on my workplace roof.
It seems like we’re just good friends who occasionally help each other cum (although most of the time it’s me). I really wish your husband would stop tracking your iPhone so we can meet in a room and have real sex, the one our bodies can touch.
You asked for a pic – you got a pic (an pic form her)
Our first sex (A post by him)
The first time we met (A by her)
How we met (A post by him)
Do you remember how we met? we each had our separate blog on that site, I wrote about sex and the life of the manager, you wrote about being a young mom.
I probably approached you first, I was flirting with everyone over there. It took long long time until you played along with me, and even then I could not guess that your’e an active butterfly, much more then I was.
You have that innocent thing about you, I think no one can guess what is happening under the surface, that blond, thin, small tits, milky skin, beautiful face surface of yours.
I’m trying to remember if you sent me a nude before our first encounter…
Our first post
So who are we?
I’m S (41M), she’s H(28F).
We’re married, but not to each other.
We’ve been friends for many years now.
And we fuck. We fuck our significant others. We fuck others. We fuck each other.
And this is our story. And sometimes, our pictures.