The bastard squeezed a generous amount of gel directly on my dark rosebud and pushed it in past my twitching aperture. With one finger, he lubed my pa...sage and then added a second finger. Satisfied that I was now well greased, I heard him applying some gel on his cockhead.Then I felt him positioning it at my still very tight entrance. He pushed that soft huge mushroom head against my rosebud and it opened up to receive him. Rob paused briefly allowing me to adjust to the penetration before. ”“I’ve gotten over that for the most part,” I replied. “I like to do the things I can do by myself but I realize that other things are going to take practice.”Liam nodded slightly – and then he helped me unbutton my shirt. I felt as though I was two years old again.“Thanks,” I said with a red face.“It’s really no bother,” he said as he unbuttoned my left cuff. I could do the right by myself and I think he recognized that fact. “We ... we all saw what you did.”I had on one of my custom-made. It was a two-story building with living quarters on the ground floor and a loft with a ceiling of about 12 feet. There were no conventional windows in the loft walls, but there was a multitude of skylights. This produced a weird plume of lights shining through into the fog.The grappling hook provided a ready access to the roof, and Stan made his way to a skylight to see what might be going on inside the loft. He saw a line of 12 cages lining one wall; these cages were about 5 feet wide and deep. The band was playing that (ancient to me) “beach music” that sounds like early 1960s dance music. Bulldog people of all ages were there. Old folks were smashed drunk and dancing their asses off! We all did some dancing too. It felt strange dancing to that but it was fun, we were drunk, so of course it was fun! All kinds of Bulldog cheers were yelled and we all sang Glory To Ole Georgia a few times, the version where we sing “and to hell with Florida” instead of the usual “and to hell with.