Still, she couldn't help but recall with little fiery ripples of lust how close Jay had come to doing it for her the night before! They both had plenty to drink, he, twice as much as she, of course, and that had been her fault. She'd fed them to him with purpose, operating on another theory which he repeatedly had used in his novels… the staying power of the well-liquored male. God, if there was any truth in it – she had excitedly thought as she skipped around in her see-through nightie to make him drinks before curling up beside him on the couch and letting him lustfully run his big, hot hands over her nearly naked, erogenous curves – he should wind up a human dynamo! She'd gotten him drunk, amazed as always by his alcoholic capacity, and just as astonished at his unbelievable recuperative ability, such as this very morning. She doubted if he even knew the meaning of the word "hangover".

He had been panting, animalish, and staggering when they'd made it to the bedroom for the final course. Smoldering, she'd whipped her nightie over her head, bouncing nakedly onto the bed into a lewd, thigh-spread position like a child playing "statue", except she'd been a very hot young wife with no intentions of taking an immobile part in the game! "Christ, baby, you're a voluptuous doll to look at!" he'd thick-tongued in a hoarse voice, pulling at his clothes while she laid there watching him.

Sure, he was getting soft with age and noticeably paunchy with an overhang of spare-tire around the middle, but the long, thick hardness of his lust-swollen penis standing out from his strong, hairy loins immediately dwarfed all else. Trembling sensations of shameless desire had shivered over her exciting nakedness, her craving eyes riveted on his large, sperm-bloated testicles heavily swaying between his legs. God, how desperately she had hoped…!