It wasn’t s too long however, before I walking toward his old blue pickup truck, that he had described to me. I climbed in the truck and saw the man... that I had chatted with for so long. He looked like a lumber jack, that I knew he was. He was so happy to see me and he was all smiles as we drove off. I had on a sundress. I sat right up next to him, as if he was my old man. He felt my legs as we drove off to a place that he told me would be a beautiful spot at which to spend a little time. I told. In the process, part of it escaped my lips. The head was pressed against the back of my throat. It was time to get serious.I inhaled deeply through my nose, relaxed my throat muscles, and pressed forward, hard. I felt the head press through the ring of muscle -or whatever it is- that guards the entrance to the throat. (He tells me it feels like a tiny tight vagina in the back of my mouth.) I fought the familiar gag reflex and counted mentally to five. As soon as I could, I took a lungful of new. And do you too, Marsh?Whatever, I'm still tired, I guess. That's the bad part of fishing. Nite.Loves and Hugs,SkyP.S.: But, Marsha, there's something else I gotta ask about. If I'd beenwearing baggies and a black shirt or something, I might have gotten toknow Roger, and he could have shown me the neat place on the trail then,but I couldn't have laughed at the funny things he said then. I wouldhave moaned or something. And when we skipped rocks, we would both havehad to try real hard to go. He swept me away with his gallantry, and he thrilled the girls with his heroic stories." She braced back her shoulders and lifted her chin, poking her high breasts hard against her trembling lace."He's a vain popinjay as well as a cowardly villain," I said. "And if you bedded him, you've slept with the devil." Sir! Do you know him so well then?" she asked, obviously furious, leaning forward and giving me a fine view of her ample breastworks as she spat out the words. She wore a well-tailored.