Ask the widowers. They will know what they are doing.”So I tried fucking the men whose wives had died in c***dbirth and for other reasons. I was not...much attracted to their bodies—some were fat, and some were wrinkly, and their skin was rough. But I was determined to learn everything I could about fucking. Their cocks were all different, and as unique as their faces. I discovered that many of them were kind, and thoughtful, and some had magic hands that could take me again and again to the very. He laughed and said," no, my name is mike! Would you like to get to know me?". I said,"sure". He then grabbed my ass and told me," let's go somewhere we can be alone, I got 10 inches of pure man meat for that big round round juicy plump bubble butt and those juicy lips!". I couldn't resist! I was craving some cock! I was about ready to get on my knees on the spot! Lol But instead I responded with a smile," sure let's go." So off we went, we walked Further into the woods. We ended in an. "She lost a bet. You have good control over your erection. Why don't you get it up for us and prove it. No hands, just think yourself stiff."Truthfully, I am compartmentalized. Men are like that--keeping things in context, seperating business and pleasure. Women generally don't. The difference is small, but this difference makes women superior at multi-tasking and men superior at single-minded concentration on one item. Don't ask me if this difference is due to nature or nurture--I don't have. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Hi to you too,’ the young man said. When he looked up, there was a familiar sadness in his eyes, and Clara immediately knew that she wouldn’t leave him alone. Not on Christmas Eve. She somehow knew this was another chance being given her. ‘I brought you some food,’ she said. And when she set it down on the table at his elbow, she sat down across from him herself. ‘The kitchen is about to close, and they say you haven’t eaten yet.’ ‘Don’t need it, thanks. But thanks for bringing.