I could not fix it so I was forced to delete it and start again. Unfortunately, there were 5-6 comments that were lost in the process. Please accept m...y apologies. * I am always amazed at some of the comments that I get from some of my stories. In many cases, the comments are extremely on target. What I wanted to say was read and understood. In other cases, it was less understood or did not fit what the reader wanted to read. I understand that everyone has their own view of life. We are all. "You have done this before, you naughty boy." One time, but all I did is touch."She squeaked as I lightly pinched then pulled on both nipples."Well, the touching part you have down. Be aware some women are more sensitive than others. Some don't like any pain, just light rubbing. Others want you to really tug on their nipples. Its best to slowly work from the gentlest and build until you hit a boundary line, and then back off." Beyond just your hands you can also use your mouth and tongue. Like. But even then, not one had ever been picked up by a publisher, and they never would be. Yet some new author came into being every day, and one had to wonder how they did it. Their stories were no better than mine, some were even worse, but they got a break and I didn't.How could that happen; you sent stories to the same publisher that took that hackneyed writer and published him. His story lacked depth, it lacked a good plot, and it was not that well written, so what did he have that you. Now get your butts moving, I expect you two dressed and ready for the day and less than five minutes. Isabel giggles, He does not know anything about girls. I state, Justin, magic absolutely, cooking maybe, women not a clue. Isabel releases my hand and I reluctantly withdraw back to my side of the curtain. The rest of the day seems to be one big blur, without Isabel, I do not seem to be myself anymore. I am riding on the same carpet as King Patrick, Justin, Jeremiah and a half dozen clansman.