His hands moved down his body to his cock and balls, he washed his butt and butt hole, moved down his legs, as far as he could reach without submergin... his head. He stood in the water, letting the slight current wash over him. In the clear, warm, fresh water he saw some tiny fish drawing close to him. Sebastian stopped moving and thought the fish would leave him if he left them alone. The large school drew closer to him. A few of them started nibbling on his smooth chest, eating the dead skin. Brigitte and he would spend stolen hours in her upstairs garret bedroom, when the rest of the house was empty. She with his penis in her mouth and he at her vagina.He learnt all the secret places to lick, suck and nibble, while she would suck him to near climax before mounting and riding him as energetically as if booting home a winner at Longchamps racetrack.Jacques would get home exhausted and physically sated, but still missing the emotional rapport that he would have had when coming home. He just leaned forward and reached over my wife's shoulder to get his drink. But what had really caught my attention was when I saw him as he pressed his crotch area up into my wife's ass. He then just started to slowly push it upwards even more into her ass. I thought to myself, Here it comes. I then waited for my wife to turn her head back and say, "Who do you think you are"? But wait, My wife did not even turn around or tell him anything. I guess from all the drinks that she had that she did. He knew every man in the room. And me.He placed a tape recorder on the table, Bulldog would have a tape recorder, wouldn’t he? He pointed to George Eugene Randolph who had played football for the Army during the Korean conflict. Bulldog said, “You first.”He went around the room, one by one, recording impressions, guesses, remembered images.I was in Notes, typing furiously before I began losing what I’d memorized.Daddy was next to arrive; it’s not that far from Brookside to the Crossroads..