She looked at her nude body again, and admitted, “yes, I have grown hair, hair I’m not sure that I want, maybe if we have everything I need, I can...shave!”Just then Ken sauntered in, he was also scratching, he had a bit of a boner evident, and he blushed as he saw us, and then concentrated on staring at nude Barbara.By his facial features, I judged him to still only be twelve, maybe thirteen, just into puberty, but whatever, he was still young.Barbara hurried out of the kitchen, and came back. In fact, he was so very well behaved, he could count with a certainty that he would be on Saint Nick's 'good'-list. It was only nature conspiring to peak the kid's rather unusual interests regarding his budding sexuality. To be more precise, little Michael had a mother who even as she approached thirty years of age, still had a package that would give thoughts of impurity to the savior himself. For such a young connoisseur of the charms-of-a-women, like Michael, the allure of his lovely. Dreaming? I used to dream a lot in my youth. I recall the gorgeous lady passing me in the supermarket where I worked before university. Her thighs exposed in the park, bare breasts flashing in my dreams. Ten distant years ago. Ah, the pangs of youth.But the hotness and wetness of last evening, the passion, the fusion, is no dream. Beside me lies the naked allure of Sara. Gazing longingly at her face, not gorgeous, but so delicate, so entrancing, her silken tawny hair across the pillow. I hunger. I saw the cups of her bra loosen the soft small breasts of Mala auntie, as they slacked their grip from her breast .Removing her bra, she gave me a full show of her supple breasts. They were small, round and yet, beautiful and graceful. They were shaped like a mango, with the round dark areola and nipple near the bottom of the mounds adding the sexual rage burning inside me.Turning towards the wall of the terrace and gripping it with one hand, her fingers fumbled at the bottom of her petticoat.