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Delicious French cuisine, and soon champagne, drunk in large quantities, pulled us to talk about betrayal, partnerships and relations between the sexes in principle.
It was decided to finish the dinner with a glass of Calvados, which later became almost a full-fledged bottle.
At some point, I realized that from such plentiful libations, not only my beloved, but I myself became drunk.
By the time the conversation touched strip clubs, both female and male.
In some incomprehensible way, half an hour later, we ended up driving my car to one of these places – the Red Riding Hood men’s strip club.

While my friend and I were hanging out in the metal detector frame, our half slipped inside and managed to order a private dance, which was performed by a muscular brunette, barely covered by a symbolic strip of fabric.
Further merged into a single noise in my head.
At some point I saw a spouse moving away with a brunette, but I couldn’t control the situation anymore.

Going down to the toilet, I heard the characteristic and painfully familiar sounds emanating from the women’s booths.
After just a minute, the aforementioned brunette popped out, on the move, tucking his manhood into swimming trunks, of quite impressive size.
Without waiting for my wife to leave, I rushed upstairs and pretended that I quietly drank with a friend all this time.
My conspiracy was successful, because after a while everything around was mixed up.
I woke up on the approaches to the house, where my friend and I were carrying half of my legs, which were spread apart legs and tightly hugging us by the shoulders.
Putting the almost lifeless body on the bed, I retired to the bathroom.
Returning to the room, I found that my beloved unconscious lying on the bed a minute ago, managed to lift her skirt, and bending the pelvis, to enable my friend to explore the most delicate little sideways of the flesh.

His fat cock pumped my spouse evenly, which not only began to moan slightly from pleasure, but already actively waved him.
Making a guilty look, a friend gave way to me.
My member instantly acquired an unprecedented fortress, and despite the decent volume acquired from what he saw, he easily slipped into my wife’s fissured gap.
Making sharp movements, I found spots on my wife’s feet suspiciously similar to dried sperm.
The toilet stall in the club immediately came to mind.
These thoughts made me move at an accelerated pace.
My eggs banged against the shaved pubis of his wife, while the hands of a friend penetrated under the fabric of the topic actively tormented her breast.
Tearing off the remnants of her clothes, we continued our orgy.
My wife did not seem to understand what was wrong with her and where she was, but she did her work with great enthusiasm.
All her strong and tanned body glistened with sweat.

Without opening her eyes, she processed alternately our members, not forgetting about herself.
When I gently penetrated her anus, she slumped down, sat down on a member of her second partner, and moved actively, giving us the opportunity to assess the thickness of the partition that separated us from a friend.
We passed the final as on the relay – in turn.
First, my friend was in her ass, then, moving and pushing deeper into his sperm, I also finished.
I woke up from the sounds that, despite the headache, my wife made.
A member of my friend entered her mouth almost entirely.
With her hand, she squeezed my balls tightly, reinforcing the already strong morning erection.
But my wife is not a bad whore – was the first thought that visited me that morning.
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