', 3rd June 1953 to be precise, my father's dream of living in a thatched cottage on a couple of acres of ground from which he could produce all the f...mily's needs came to fruition. The events that followed should have put anyone off this life style for, well ... life. Seeds didn't germinate, and when they did a herd of steers broke into the garden and trampled everything. When that didn't happen drought reduced the water level in the well so that there was no water. Rats seemed to have free. One guy would do my arse and cum, and the next would do my pussy and cum. I had so much cum in me I could hold no more. The girl I was eating came, and as quickly as it started everything ended. I felt a bit disappointed, but couldn’t figure out why. I heard Steve thank everybody for cumming over tonight. He told somebody, “Here is a copy of the tape with sound like you asked for.” Son-of-a-bitch, I forgot about the tape! He asked the recipient of the tape to get him something off the wall. I. And I can’t blame them, agents and publishers. It’s kind of a niche story, hard to market. It’s got too much sex for a coming age story, too much teenage drama for adult fiction, and not a single word about vampires or bondage to make it work as erotic fiction. So it’s sat on my hard drive for four years. I’ll occasionally open it up, tinker with a line, or try to figure out how to re-work it into something more marketable. I always end up wasting a weekend trying to figure out how to change. I want to make love to you. Like a lover. Like someone who loves you. Then when you're with Sandy you'll have options. Sometimes hard and hot is the way to go. But sometimes a girl wants gentle, sweet, loving. So kiss me. Gently. On my face, my neck, shoulders, chest. But gently. Don't always go for our tits like it's a football. Gently massage, tickle, lightly kiss, gently suck. Go ahead love me. You'll know how you're doing by how I react to what you do."OK. You think Sandy will want me to.