Her eyes closed tight and she pressed further back against me. “Fuck yes… yes… Oh fuck…”She came without warning. She grew quiet, then groan...d loud enough to let half the woods know where we were. She pressed back against me until I couldn’t move; her body rippled around my shaft, sucking me deeper even though I was pressed as deeply inside of her as I could be. Somehow, I pried myself from her body and continued to thrust. She was even more vocal now, nearly shouting as I touched that spot. We called it Jim. Our conversations over the bar at the golf club took on a whole new meaning after that, as she'd tell me that Jim had been visiting, or she'd ask me how Frances was feeling. My mates also noticed my game was deteriorating. Since Sally and I became lovers, my handicap had blown out by three shots. It was difficult to concentrate on my game for the first few holes of a round on Saturdays when Sally worked. The afternoon Sally squirted for me was the most beautiful thing we'd. More

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