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Okay, this you still have to wait).
Lyudmila felt tense, her face reddened, a sense of awkwardness hung over her.
However, I quickly managed to defuse the voltage.

In passing with a peck on her cheek, I casually scolded her for the way she tortured us yesterday (it is not yet known who tortured anyone, but oh well).
Everyone laughed merrily, the conversation resumed again.

From time to time I caught the interrogative glances of my friends (they say when will we be again?) You see you dreaming, the situation must stand up, mature, then the desire will be greater, and you should take care of your wife, tea is not a fucking machine.
After breakfast, damn you, that is, having lunch, we went to the beach.
Ludmila, dressed in a colorful sundress, was cheerfully waving beside us, finding a place under a shed in the lounge chairs, we undressed and immediately went to splash in the sea, carefully stepping on the hot stones, I watched my surroundings with interest.
My wife walked in front, the navy-blue swimsuit walked very well, the narrow panties that were turning into ribbons tightly wrapped around her trembling walking leg, the slightly reddish from sunburn belly tight elastic fold riveted the attention of the surrounding men, turning into a plump pubis tubercle.

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A diligent imagination immediately painted a picture of the night before me, the submissive body of a woman who was walking ahead of us was swaying under our pressure, stifled breathing, loud moans more like screams, plump divorced hips between which thick, vein-twisted sticks move, wife’s trembling hands move apart jerking off our penises, feeling loose eggs.
Sergey and Misha were looking at this already tried, but now inaccessible body, their eagerly spoke by their increased in the size of their accessories, their looking back Lyudmila looked away embarrassed when she saw this obscene picture.
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