I looked at the femur in my hand and felt the magical pull on it. Grinning, I walked towards the skeleton, the femur in my hand. I approached it on th...e side where it had no real arm, and easily dodged the slashing movements made by the stump. I stepped in behind it and, using both my hands to grip it, swung the femur as hard as I could. It connected solidly with the skeletons skull, which smashed the femur into two pieces and sent the cracked skull flying. It slammed into the arena wall and. "Nice package," he said as his zipper opened. His pants were too tight, then his belt was undone, then the button to his jeans, then the soft, gentle hand stroked him through his jockeys. Art had never felt so nervous, but the alcohol allowed his pants and jockeys to be taken off, then the guy slid off the couch to his knees and Art gasped. He spread his knees wider as his balls were bathed in warmth and pleasure. Nothing had ever felt so good to him as his fat wife had never sucked his balls. A picture of being grabbed and kissed by a man filled myimagination. This was too much for me and my stomach gave a warninglurch filling my throat with bile. I grabbed the nearby wastebasket andbrought back my lunch. Regurgitated lettuce leaves have the foulesttaste in the world; so bitter."I'm NOT GAY!" I uttered forcefully with distaste in my voice, carefullyemphasizing the last two words. "I fancy girls and not boys!"A small weak smile broke into her gloom. "Go and grab a lemon juice fromthe. Joan might have slept out of exhaustion, and an inherent sense of self-preservation, knowing what rigors were in store for her after we were both rested.For hours and hours I knew nothing at all, and then Joan jerked in her sleep which reminded me that there was a sexy, desirable and very naked woman beside in my great-big bed.We’d slept soundly until our bodies recovered from their work.And then she woke up and we had sex.Wake up sex is often better than make up sex. I’ve had both, so I know.