Racial swap-night

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Eddie Frampton folded his tall but lithe and muscular frame into the brand new Porsche, started the motor, jerked it into reverse gear and rocketed the machine down the drive into the quiet street. Tires squealing and engine reving like mad, he headed toward Manna Avenue and back to the club. The ache in his loins and his feeling of sexual deprivation told him, only too clearly that there was a big void in his married life although in almost every other direction, his life had changed for the better.

Jesus Christ! Alyce looks she'd be the most fabulous lay of the century… that luscious body, it sure fooled me. Why does she just lay there like a sack of flour when I fuck her? She's so Goddamn passive, I feel like I might as well shove my cock into an inflatable doll. It's not normal. She thinks everything but the missionary position is only for perverts. Even with the missionary she just lies there and throws her legs up and waits for me to get it over with.

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