They were hairier than her cunt. She felt my shaft all over, as if she was testing it for size and stiffness and I fought not to cum in her hand right...then.“Which is the nicest part to touch?” she asked. It dawned on me this might be her first time too!I told her the ridge round the base of my knob, and the sensitive spot underneath I later learned was called the frenulum. Pre cum oozed from my nozzle as her fingers tickled me just there. I told her what it was.“How do I do it?” She asked. It. J walking into the family room and settling into the recliner. She was just a few feet away from my hiding place. I tried to be even smaller and quieter than before. Mrs. J turned on the T.V. and began flipping channels. At least I didn't have to worry about her hearing me breathe.I was beginning to relax, and thought I was going to get through this without a heart attack when I felt something cold and wet touch me right in my asshole! I almost let out a scream but managed to contain myself. I. ’ ‘It would be easy to follow you anywhere,’ she said, laughing, ‘I doubt there’s another car that looks like yours outside of a museum.’ ‘That’s true,’ I agreed, feeling foolish. Maybe Becky picked up on my discomfort. She touched my sleeve, and said, ‘It’s a cool car. I love it.’ I pulled out of the parking lot and headed home, keeping an eye on her van in the tiny rearview mirror. Planning ahead, I would call Samantha. I needed to know the rest of the story. God, I miss Paul Harvey. Sam. Leslie was... unusual. She would speak as though sex was a sin, and she would go on about the Rapture, and she really seemed to BELIEVE... But, in the next breath, she would see the outline of a cock in someone's pants and lick her lips. I spent a lot of time talking with her and she had an incredible sex drive, combined with an intense guilt about it.After a semester or so of steadily increasing testosterone levels, I finally convinced Leslie she should give me a try. We were both unattached.