At a dinner party with friends, seated between my husband and our host, the opportunity was too good to pass up. I’d had my hand on Larry’s thigh, stroking the hard ridge of his erection for several minutes now; he was starting to sweat.

He’d hissed, “Ohh, fuck!” in my ear moments ago, and now pressed his hand atop mine, but too late. He uttered a low grunt, and I felt him throb and pump as he spurted his load into his pants. He stared at me, undoubtedly panicked about the wet spot, while my husband remained blissfully unaware…