He wasted no time plunging it deep into her hot sex. “Paul? Marcy got the impression that Paul wanted to vent, but she wasn’t so sure she wanted to go down that road. He loved the way they responded so fluidly to her every sharp motion. He made a timid, brisk lick that barely skimmed her inner lips. Marcy spread her legs apart, exposing her slit to him. He could feel the warmth radiating from it; its scent saturated his nostrils. “You okay?” he asked. It was a microbrewery in a nearby county, if he recalled correctly. Paul?” Marcy uttered, struggling to channel her breath into coherent words. As they sat there together in the continuing silence Marcy realized that for the first, and probably only time, she was in a place where she could talk about their affair without any judgement, whatsoever.
