It’d feel good.I’d get down on my knees, unzip his trousers, reach my hand in and pull out his cock. I’m new to being with guys, so I’d be ner...ous. I’d stroke it slowly, watching the foreskin move over the head. Watching the skin peel on and off. I’d start stroking faster, just to hear him moan. I’d give the very tip a light lick, just for a taste. I’d give it another like. My nerves will go, and I’ll place my tongue on his balls, and slowly lick all the way up his shaft, finally flicking the. “Say yes. We can try it out. Maybe it'll help ease the tension between you while I relieve some tension of my own. We'll see if everyone has a good time and go from there.”Audrey was overwhelmed. She'd been looking for the right person online for weeks. She'd considered hiring a sex worker, but with only one steady income, doing that regularly would get expensive fast. She never would've imagined someone she knew would be willing to step in and potentially provide the missing piece.She. I smiled back."Hi," her voice was not the high pitched parody of a voice that many girls effect. It was natural, rich, and... sexy for lack of a better word.I was confused. Granted, there was more than a couple of people in the place, but there was no need for her to be so close. I tried to step back. For a moment, I could note that she wore a short, logo tee shirt, cut short enough to move over her tummy when she moved, but covered it to the waist of her faded hip buggers when she stood still.. They only present the facts they like, report their own wild speculations as truth and try to spin rumor into something the public will accept as reality. They're part of the reason journalism is considered to be dead. But just because journalism is dead doesn't mean there are no true journalists left.5:00 am; Friday.A blaring alarm woke Hannah Hancock from her slumber. With a slap and a grunt she had silenced the clock and risen from her bed. The young woman shuffled to her bathroom bleary.