"Shit, Sandi," Verne groaned, rubbing his swelling penis up against her trembling thighs as he reached around to bunch her flimsy sundress up to her waist. "You look so sweet today that I gotta screw you! Besides, you need to be reminded that you're my girl and no one else's!"

What could be the matter with Verne? Here it was the middle of the day, with the kitchen door standing wide open so that any of the always curious neighbors who happened to be passing could plainly see inside, and he was fondling her breasts and lifting up her mini-dress to stroke at the "vee" of honey-blonde pussy hair in between her naked thighs! What could have made him so unnaturally excited?

The young wife shivered as Verne's bulging penis pressured hotly against her upper leg, knowing that unless she stopped this indecency at once that his hardened male flesh would soon be spearing with long, smooth strokes up into her unprotected vagina – right here against the kitchen table! And she wanted him to do it – there was no use denying that. Up between her thighs a voluptuous moisture was forming, and the aroused young blonde knew very well that it wasn't being brought on by the noonday heat.

"P-please, Verne," she managed to stammer in a low, embarrassed voice. "N-not now… not here in the k-kitchen! It's indecent! Anyone might see us!"

"Who gives a damn?" her husband's lust-hoarsened voice hissed in her ear. "I just saw Larry giving it to Clare, and now I want you. I want you too bad to wait!"

His hands once again reached out to massage Sandi's sensitively trembling breasts beneath her skimpy dress, while he pressed his pulsating penis more insistently than ever against her hair-covered pussy mound.

"I don't care what Larry and Clare do in the middle of the day!" the nineteen year old retorted angrily, pursing her pink lips up into a disapproving little pout and pushing her husband's body away. "It's none of my business – or yours either! And even if they were acting like animals, that certainly doesn't make it right!"