To taste your lips upon my own. To have that deeper, stronger connection with another living soul. I'd searched long and hard for someone like you, an...d while I was slowly giving up hope, there you were when I wasn't looking.That first night we spent together, in your bedroom. You could see I was shaking, yet your loving touch placed me at ease. Sitting beside me, next to your bed, for what must have been an hour, maybe longer, as time drifted by without due notice. Most of it not even speaking. She loved her mother, but she knew she had to leave.That night, she stuffed her backpack with a week’s worth of undies, two changes of jeans and shirts, her flute, and a Boy Scout Handbook. She had her hatchet on her belt and her Barlow knife in a pocket. She tied a tarp and blanket on top for a bedroll, filled her canteen with water, and made three ham sandwiches. In a baggie, she stuffed her savings – thirty-four dollars and sixteen cents. Then, she raided the sugar jar for two tens, six. I moan as a wave of passion sweeps through my body, just as Timber pushes his mouth farther onto mine. Over the last few months I have been getting braver with the dog.Yet each time the shame draws me back to reality. This time I go further, I touch Timber's maleness tentatively with my hand, the same hand that was just inside my panties. For the hundredth time, I wonder what it would be like to know a man to have him kiss and fondle me. Someone to take control of me and make me his.Oh, I. She had expected him to mount her. To put his cock into her body and seek his own release. That was what boys wanted, and for the first time she was prepared to accept that, to allow it. But he wasn’t mounting her. He kissed her breasts through the fabric of her dress, then he moved lower quickly, planting more kisses on her thighs. He kissed her knees and her ankles, he kissed the tops of her feet and her toes. He nibbled his way back up, sliding his hands along her legs as he did so.He.