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I continued to admire the photos, saying some inane things like : you caught her at her best, yes, I can even see the moisture on her pussy lips, how did you ever manage to do that? I really wasn’t expecting an answer. I had been concentrating not only the lewd pictures of my wife, but the wet spot that was spreading on the front of his khakis. He was obviously aroused by the pictures he had taken of my wife. But I wondered, did he find it more exciting due to the fact that I was there looking at his handiwork.As I gazed at the pictures, was gradually moving closer to Freddy as I worked my way down the table looking at the dozens of 8X10s of my sexy wife. I finally nudged up against Freddy’s hip, my hand had found its way to fell his ass. I was trying to keep my gaze on the pictures rather than him. In the next moment I felt him turn towards me and my hand slipped off his ass and before I knew it, I was feeling the huge bulge in his trousers. I could feel the wetness under my. I walked on tiptoes within ten meters but I wasn't steady this way, moreover I was apprehensive about turning my ankle again so I stopped experimenting. Finally, I reached the house. In the poor light coming out of the two curtained windows, I saw that the house was old. The flowerbeds near the front porch looked overgrown. I had a hard time climbing the three steps and getting to the front door. I knocked and waited. Nothing! I knocked harder. The sound of muffled steps came from within. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. The door opened. A few seconds later my eyes adjusted to the bright light and I saw him clearly. The man was tall and slender, early-thirties, dark-haired. He looked at me from head to toe. I stirred self-consciously."It seems that you need help," he said."Yes," I answered.He stepped back and asked me in."What happened?" he questioned as I hobbled in.I lied back in the armchair he offered me and started to recount my misadventures, starting from the moment when the.
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