He was fat, on his back, and snoring like a saw mill, sleeping off his drunk. His wife lay on her side, sandy-blonde hair almost glowing by the moonli...ht. I ripped away her covers, revealing her body clad in a cotton nightgown that covered her modestly from head to foot, decorated with little blue flowers.I slipped into bed with her, stroking her beautiful, peaceful face. She stirred, muttering something. I grasped the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up to reveal a pair of sexy legs. Her hands. Her piss runs down your face and pools behind your neck. Some runs down her own legs and coats both of your stomachs. ‘Oh that felt so great releasing that pressure,’ she says. She turns herself around and watches you, drenched, wiping your eyes and mouth clean. She smooths your now wet hair back and leans down to give you a kiss and taste her golden nectar off your lips. ‘That tasted great,’ you reply. ‘I am not sure what I like the taste of better: your pussy, your piss or your milk. I think. More

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