I LET MY FRIEND FÛCK MY WIFE (2)
I tug my blouse back over my shoulder, feeling Derrick’s arm still draped around me.
His hand lingers close to my bréast, brushing lightly as he chats.
I catch his fingers playing with the gold pendant that rests in the valley of my cleavage.
I let him. I want him to.
He fiddles with the top button of my blouse.
I slap his hand lightly.
“Naughty boy!” I say, tugging at his fingers.
He laughs and keeps hold, and I start wrestling with him playfully.
He leans in and whispers something in my ear, warm and close, and I shiver.
I wag my finger under his nose.
“Okay, if you insist. But only ONE!”
I lean back on the couch, letting him undo the top button.
Before I can stop him, he moves on to the next button.
“I said only ONE!” I warn, tugging at
