He did not answer. He looked down at the floor, like a small, shy boy.

"When a cock is hard, Rob," she said, her voice softer, "a man wants to put it someplace. He wants to put it in a nice, furry cunt, or in a hot, wet mouth. You're no different than other men – you only try to pretend you are."

When he still remained silent, she went on. "You loved being sucked off in the car, possibly being seen with your hard cock stuffed into my mouth. It was a thrill to you. You came so fucking much you almost choked me! That's evidence enough that you wanted me to suck your prick."

"Sandy, this is getting us nowhere," he said, but there was no conviction in his voice.

She stood up, arching her hips forward and spreading her feet on the floor. She framed her pussy with her hands, fanning the dark hair away from the pink, moist pussylips. "Look at my cunt, Rob," she said. "Look at my pussy; and tell me you don't want to fuck me. It's a nice cunt, darling, a hot, wet cunt. My cunt is just as tight as it was when we were married. It's just as hungry for your cock, too."

Rob looked, his eyes starting to glow. Sandy noticed the bulge in his shorts, saw his cock jerk. There was a wet spot forming where the piss hole was, his swollen cockhead outlined.

"Can you deny it isn't a pretty cunt?" she asked, moving toward him. "Can you deny your cock isn't hard, that you want a piece of my ass? Take those fucking shorts off and see how hot my ass is, Rob!"

When he made no move to strip his shorts away, Sandy stepped closer to him. She shoved her hand into the waistband and yanked. There was a ripping sound, and his shorts fell in tatters to his feet. His cock sprang free, and she gripped his prick in her hot hand, squeezing.