Amanda’s Mantra
I’m nude in the bathroom, completing my hurried hygiene – by myself for once, or so I stupidly assume. Pitifully skinny and abnormally short for a guy, I see a disquieting movement in the mirror behind me. So much for privacy. Say hello to my considerably older, much huger wife looming into view.
She’s shed her clothing too – and ominously switched into a skimpy robe that accentuates her remarkably big-boned (and big-muscled) frame, and the even bigger curves that so gloriously round it all out.
There’s no opportunity to do more than feel guilty. Powerful arms the size of my thighs envelop me from behind, crushing me into that surfeit of warm, womanly flesh/scent. Demandingly randy Mandy growls possessively down, moistening my helpless ear. The heat of her exhalation mak
