Chapter Seven
Not the Elephant Man
With no further ado, Tajuana slipped out of her skirt and blouse. Now all she had on were pantyhose, bra, and heels. My own opinion was that Tajuana showed invariably sound judgement in her selection of undergarments. In this instance, they were a fetching shade of pastel pink, accented with white lace.
Vivian told me to get undressed as well, informing me that I should take off all my clothes.
“Right down to the buff, Darwin dear,” she said.
Only Vivian remained dressed.
For reasons which remain obscure, it excited Vivian to see me engage in s*x with other women. Not more than a minute after I doffed my last article of clothing—my briefs, I was sitting beside Vivian on the bed.
At my feet knelt Tajuana, engulfing my giant, rigidly stiff organ in h
