I heard a click, and suddenly we rose in the air. We were in an elevator. He gently unwrapped the blindfold and kissed me on the lips. I looked around...in wonder. I saw one wall of the elevator was a mirror, the other three were cushiony brocade fabric. The buttons had gold engravings. I saw the floor counter entering the twenties. I saw the top floor button was lit up. ‘Wh-where are we?’ I asked. ‘The Presstin,’ he said. I gasped. The Presstin was a famous five-star hotel frequented by. I merely grunted, "No moving your ass babe - only your hands." She opened her eyes for a brief second to look down at my own, as if my demand was a physical impossibility - and then moaned in frustration and again closed them. My wife of seven years began to aggressively frig her clitoris.It was a delicious sight - and I had to fight from the urge to spin her about on the bed and fuck her with all the passion I was feeling for her.She may think I was expressing my dominance to allow her to. “I don’t know what — ’’ “ Don’t say anything,” she said. “Anything you say now is going to be a lie, and I don’t think I could bear that.” I sank into the chair next to her. “Sweetheart…” I said, but she cut me off again. “I said don’t even try. ” I looked at her. Without turning to me, she said, “Whatever you’re doing, whoever it is, however long it’s been going on, I really don’t want to know.” My mind was racing. How much did she know? How did she find out? Why did she say “whoever IT. From the look of it, this wasn't an uncommon thing. Crushing her tiny lips in a kiss, Stranger grabbed her ass with both hands, shoving his tongue down her throat as her blouse fell away. Oh god... such beautiful breasts... pert little nipples, just like I knew they would be. And now they were pressed against another man's chest. He pulled away from her then, smiling with a definate gloat, looking over her like a trophy."You look like you need a good dicking, baby!" he roared haughtily, rubbing.
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