Ideal? Your ideal?" The concept seemed strange to me, on several levels. First of all, the young man in the portrait was pleasant-looking. He looked s...eet-natured, peaceable -- even handsome. He was the kind of young man that three waitresses, in a small cafe, might giggle over, behind the cash register, as he drank his morning coffee and read the sports pages of the local paper.But... an ideal? Hardly! It was a portrait of what was, perhaps, a young man of above-average physical. I slowly slid into her crack from behind and pushed my dick down to the rear part of her feminine folds to enter her vaginal opening with concentrated determination.“Oh, mister, that feels so good to Rosita. You make want to be a bad girl for you. I love your big cock. You stretch me nice and wide for your hardness.”She looked back at me over her shoulder with her lust-filled eyes and I saw them soften as I squirted my cream inside her softly yielding vagina.“Ah, Dios Mio, that is so nice. You. Tits at face level. This was getting serious. “First off, in private you will call me mistress.” She was grinding her pussy into my lap. “And you will do as I say without question. In fact, you will be my slave.” I'm not sure if my usual witty repartee would have come back for me at that point, because I didn't have a chance to reply. That's because my face was now between Jennifer's giant tits. Smooshed between them. And I was getting the lapdance of my life; she was riding me in a rocking. She moved her other hand down to join the first and both went between her legs pulling her pussy lips apart for all to see. She was leaning right back in the chair now with her hips thrust upwards, legs wide apart and her pussy lips held wide open. This caused an instant reaction of admiration from the guys opposite for my wife's unashamed show of blatant exhibitionism. Jay thoroughly loved the attention and it was plain that she now needed more than just her fingers. It was a sight I've seen.
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