Victoria Hill was born in England. She was in her late thirties. She was tanned and fit, with shoulder-length, light brown hair. She was about five-fe...t-six-inches inches tall and had very striking features. She wasn’t traditionally pretty but had a fantastic body and very sexy, mesmerizing eyes.She had no children and lived with her first husband, who I found out later was John. Up to that point, we had only said hello to each other, but I had fantasized about her many times before.Victoria. She leaned forward and kissed his lips softly for just a moment. She stared at him. He closed his eyes and didn’t move. She pressed her lips against his again, a little firmer, and lingered a little longer. He just barely pursed his lips back against hers. His hands at her waist pressed her against him just a little tighter. Lynda couldn’t have stopped herself from what she did next, either. She dragged her hands from his face to the back of his head and crushed her mouth to his hungrily with a. At least, not anymore. That was until tonight. She arrived at the game midway through the first quarter. Her beloved team was losing by two touchdowns.At the game, she said exasperatedly and slightly tipsily, "Why are we losing? Somebody, anybody, tell me why the fuck we are losing?!"Little did she know; she was being watched by some boys behind her who wanted to score also.Red was the color of passion. Touchdown after touchdown, the team eventually made up the deficit. As the quarterback ran. I might have been in deep trouble, had I not noticed a glimpse of light out in front of the house: headlights! “Girls, Girls! Your mom’s back!” I blurted out. They jumped up silently, and raced upstairs. I quickly threw on my shorts and t-shirt, and scrambled to put the kitchen back in some semblance of order. If it wasn’t for the collection of shopping bags that Barb and Laura were overloaded with, I might have gotten snagged. I had enough time to stash the dildos in the dryer, move the table.
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