One Last Time

As I hold my wife's picture, guilt stabs me.  What was I thinking?  I repeat my promise to her - to us - that it won't happen again.  Remorse tells me it meant nothing. I swear indifference when she enters my office. Lust, however, rises as her scent fills my nostrils.  Before I know it, my hands open her blouse. Her nipples scream for my touch -  my  touch!  "Fuck me," she begs, with

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