We had been here for a couple of years since we got married, and Sam must have moved in about a year after. He seemed a nice enough guy: slender, soft...ly spoken, polite, and a little shy. At our summer BBQ in the shared garden area we chatted about this and that the way you do at such parties. He told me he was a freelance writer and worked from home. Features stuff mainly, magazines and technical journals. He spent a long time talking to Sophie, my wife, and they seemed to hit it off. I saw him. "She's too big for you." Bullshit! You all take her in your pussies," Jeanne replied. "I know she'll stretch my ass and cream my poop chute. My pussy needs a rest after what you and Barocca just did to it, and I've gotta learn to be able to do this anyway. I did anal scenes plenty of times when I made movies, and it'll be the perfect enema for me." Jeanne laughed, climbed onto the bed, rolled onto her belly and propped herself up on her hands and knees."Damn, Jeanne," Barocca exclaimed. He caught me off guard since I was expecting the wound to be somewhere on his lower extremities but instead the wound was right next to his pubic area. I could see his pubic hair and I could make the base of his cock. The images of my brother naked were now going through my head and I felt such a need to see my nephew’s cock. I could see the big bruise and I told him that it was nothing serious and there wasn’t much I could do but I didn’t want to slip up the opportunity to see his cock. ‘I haven’t,’ I admit. ‘Thank you.’ She looks up at me, sad empathy in her eyes, and she looks beautiful. She’s changed clothes, donning that peasant skirt that looks so nice on her, and has only the lightest touch of make-up on. ‘Can I come in?’ she asks. Jacob Currie. Currie. ‘Yes.’ We sit silently next to each other on the bed and eat our hamburgers. ‘That was sweet, what you said today,’ she says when we’ve finished. ‘No it wasn’t.’ ‘It was.’ She turns to me, and I notice that she smells.