Leslie however is one bloody terrific dancer. First I dance with him and then Travis does. When Bill Haley's record "Rock Around the Clock" is played,... the three of us dance together and we go wild. Shit, we are good enough for American Bandstand. Well, Leslie is anyway. The whole crowd is in awe and are clapping and cheering him/her on. After that song, when we are on the floor with Leslie individually, we get cut in on all the time. All the guys want to dance with Leslie. Anyway we have a lot. "He looked at something inside his head, then looked at me and smiled. "Yeah, I could have gotten some good pictures. You know what the problem is. These photographers have their setups and their tripods and they've come to believe that the only place they can take pictures is in their studios. I bet I could get some good shots going over to a kid's house and having him show me his toys or his PlayStation." Or having one or both of his parents playing with him. Look at the pictures my mother. But unfortunately, she was a long way from being his best friend and even further away from the opportunity to get him alone. Hell, even if she did, she was sure her inexperience would ruin the moment and ultimately her chances of ever making him moan. But just from the thought alone, she experienced wetness.As she read about the two best friends making out, the girl giving him a blowjob, him sucking on her nipples and them ending the night cuddling with his “magic stick” still in her as they. That didn't stop him from fondling my ass, though. "Jeff," I interrupted him sharply before losing it once more and succumbing to the thrill of that lump pressing into my belly. "M-m-m," I purred, biting my lip. "Just let yourself be . . . . lost in the moment!" I'm afraid I uttered that last sentence while grinding my whole torso against that big, mysterious lump in Jeff's slacks. I had a clear idea now of the proportions of our dilemma and - right or wrong - I was determined to face it.