Putting all I could fit my mouth and running my tongue around it. ( thinking he would now pay attention to me. But NO, still reading and watching TV. ... lift up his huge balls and lick the skin just under his nuts. I know he likes that a lot and this would surely get him to put down the magazine at least. But NO I put my hand around the shaft and started stroking him while I took the head in my mouth. I worked it like that for several minutes, at this point I am all worked up and was making some. ‘Settle down, Stan,’ he told himself aloud, ‘Get a grip. It’s just a date, you’re not getting married!’ He forced himself to schedule things: shower, followed by a change of clothes, a quick snack, then listen to some soothing music. Oh, wait, better have the snack first – he didn’t want to drip strawberry jam down his clean shirt, and that would be bound to happen. Actually, better the music first. Mozart’s Wind Serenade filled the living room, and Stan sat, seeking a little peace at last. He. ‘…so near…yet so far…’my hubby lamented about his promotional chances while he drove but never cared to remember my birthday…that annoyed me and I kept quite…’…another chance is coming up in few days…I did all I can…hope they fill up the post at least this time…’he sighed…’…let us hope for the best…’I wished…‘…poor Venkat…still busy back there…’I commented as we stopped for lunch at a hotel on out skirts… ’…still hungry for him…’ my hubby queried…’…jealous…’ I taunted him…’…how was his wife…’ I. I was about to get it all. My divine hunk of a guy. My Tom. All mine. All that remained was a leisurely forty minute drive to the altar accompanied by my bff, my bridesmaid, the always reliable Stephanie and my driver for the occasion, her step-brother Jacob in an immaculately restored FJ Holden. The shiny mirror state of all the chrome truly eye drooling. I could see myself so clearly in it. Sure modern cars have a sleek showy design but a classic is a classic and it made an awesome wedding.
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