And he put his hands to my jeans and put his hands backwards into my pockets and felt my groin and I groaned a bit, and demured a bit and was shy and ...ashamed, and he said, hey, don’t worry, it’s okay, and his body said it, and his eyes and I wanted to taste the freshness of him and the brightness of them. Once when I was young, there was someone, one of my mother’s friends, who forced me on a hunting expedition, which I cried about, but was sent anyway. I remember the eyes of the animal he. My dick grew harder and harder in my panties. Then Wendy rolled on her side, her rump rubbing into my hip. She squirmed there, panting as she watched the lovers explore each other. The blonde started going down on her lover. It didn’t show any pussy licking, sadly, but her head was between her lover’s thighs.I turned onto my side, rubbing my hard cock into Wendy’s rump. The light of the movie played over us as I hiked up her skirt. I worked up mine, too. Wendy whimpered and moaned, making such. Her firm grip on my head prevented me from losing contact with the smooth flesh of her pussy."Please Father. Don't stop!" She moaned as her hips ground into my face. She took my right hand and brought it up to her heaving breasts. They are exquisitely beautiful. Small but full. I cupped one in my hand. The intensity of the feeling is almost overwhelming! Her nipples nearly burn my palms! "Use your other hand, Father! Like I did" she coaxes, giving me little time to think, to stop!My left hand. We filled two small tarps with scrap cuts from the large pile and hauled them back to the house. We were like two Santa Clauses with giant bags full of toys on our backs sliding on the ice. I lit the fire and we settled in with blankets on the couch across from the fire. Dinner was a big bag of potato chips, some cheese and two bottles of Chianti Classico. The only light was from the fire which was blazing nicely. ‘Doug, how come you never married? I mean you’re a really nice guy. And good.