It’s good to know that my writing has a positive effect on guys. Believe me, when I was writing that thing, I stayed hard the whole time,” Dad jok...ed. “Listen, why don’t you go ahead and take that copy. My gift to you. I’ve got a few more copies stashed away, so it won’t be missed.”“Well, if it won’t be missed... , “ I said with a glow still on my face. Truth is, I just wanted to find a quiet place and devour that book to relive the thrill that it had given me all those years ago, but I kept my. He'll call me tomorrow I bet. Just like all the other ones didn't," I thought to myself.I walked before him to the door to let him out."This really was a nice evening, we have to do it again some time," he mumbled as I reached for the latch to let him out. I glanced at him and he quickly shifted his eyes away from my butt."Were you just looking at my butt?" I asked slyly."No. Well, yes, and I know we talked about this, but it's hard not to think about it when your laying on my lap like that.". Finally, she rolled off of him, and lay on the bed. She was dripping sweat.“I really needed that.” She reached over and got a cigarette, lighting it.“Are you sure you’re done?”“What do you mean?” She looked at him. He moved closer.“I think you need more,” he whispered into her ear, breathing in her smoke. “I think you need me to lick your dripping pussy until you come again.”“Oh, god yes, Jack, please lick me.”He got down between her legs, and inhaled the rich scent of their sex. Then he. ”Katrina was not freaky.I loved her because she was the perfect wife. She was sensible and stable, intelligent and caring. A career woman. But one thing she wasn't was freaky. She didn’t need to be. I loved her because she was the opposite. “You’re about as freaky as a pair of slippers and a cup of hot cocoa.”“I know. But I feel like I missed out on doing stuff like that when I was young. My parents were strict.”I wasn't convinced. “You’d hate it. Being hot, smelly and sweaty is not your.