I can feel him tense and marvel at how such a small action can always bring him to the end. I slow the tugging, open my mouth wide and lick the top of... his cock. It swells and dances, a marionette guided by the flicking of my tongue. I hear his breath deepen and quicken. He moves a hand to himself wanting to end the torment. I grab it at the wrist and gently bite his prick, warning him to stay away. Whimpering, he drops his hand to his side, grips the sheets and waits. I move swiftly, grabbing. I, of course, had other things on my mind. We met on-campus a few days later for a coffee, and she started unloading her personal past on me. The reason she transferred was because she broke up with her boyfriend, he lost his mind and she ran away. That prompted me to start looking over my shoulder - and hers. What I gathered from the conversation was she could use a guy friend, but also a guy friend's touch that wasn't her ex-psycho boyfriend. Before we left, she invited me over to her place. I think women go through many sexual experiences, making them more acceptable in our heads than the reality. There should be no such thing as non-descript, mediocre sex. Every single time there should be fireworks or at least a sparkler of passion. In all honesty, this revelation came a couple of years ago. I genuinely thought that "alright" sex was good enough. What I would not settle for was bad, hang your head in shame sex. Again, it was student days and we had gone to a night club in Leeds. . my dad is a lawyer. He's notarized each prediction before the fact." No sir ... he won't bet." I'll wire you a thousand dollars ... you bet it on the series ... I'll split the winnings." Wanna bet the Rose Bowl?"I started laughing... "I'll get my dad."I left the room ... ten or fifteen minutes later, my dad came out with an envelope for me to take to the bank. That's all he did ... never spoke a word ... just handed it to me. It said, Chief Teller: Clinton National Bank.I walked down town to.