" She looked up at me and smiled. "Come on, Pete give me a kiss and she grabbed the back of my head, pulling me hard to her lips, sticking her tongue deep in my mouth, our tongues swirling around, devouring each other’s mouths. It was ferocious kissing. She moaned and I moaned, both of us getting hotter under the pounding water, steam rising around us, the pot loosening all inhibitions.Suddenly, she stopped, pulled off her wet wig and threw it outside the shower onto the bathroom floor. "I can't stand that damn wig anymore," she said, then grabbed my wet hair, gripping it in her fingers, pulling me to her mouth, kissing me, groaning, our kisses getting hotter and harder, our arms wrapped around our wet bodies, grinding into each other as we kissed. I moved my hands down to her ass and pulled her harder into me. My hard cock was pressed against her belly and she lifted herself up to grind her pussy against my cock. She then reached for some soap, lathering my body, then hers. We were. My husband had bought them for me. I wondered if the sight of me pleased the milk man. I wondered if he’d noticed that I’d taken care to match the style and era of his truck and his outfit.I closed the refrigerator and turned back to him.“So what can I help you with, miss?”I looked him over. I looked him over again. I thought about the cream and butter he’d brought me and I got that feeling I get.“I have to say, I’m really happy with your quality.”Did he know I wasn’t talking about the dairy? That little smirk remained on his wide lips. He had a wolfish look about him. He had freckles. His blue eyes matched his milk man uniform.I opened the paper bag, slipped out the block of butter wrapped in waxed paper, leaned forward, and put my elbows on the tabletop. My breasts hung against my dress. They’re not small breasts. They make an impression. I unwrapped the butter from its waxed paper. I took my time about it and let him have a good long look. I had arranged myself in the mirror.
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