She looked up at me, her hands slipping away from her temples and rested upon my thigh. Why cant it just be a bad dream? She asked, quite patheticall.... I placed a hand on her forehead and slid it over her hair. My dear, none of us are truly awake. We are caught in a net of sleep and dreams, which we have unconsciously woven ourselves into. — Lolita kept to herself for the days following. Most days she sat in her room, staring out the large window, over the forest below. The drugs that had been. I knew that Darlene had to feel it rising beneath her legs and uncomfortably tried to hide it by moving her legs off my crotch. Darlene resisted my movement and unless I was drunker than I knew I was she began to slowly move her legs back and forth over my quickly rising erection. I sat there silently as she slowly stroked her legs over my cock. I probably should have left, I know, but quite frankly the attention was rather erotic. And besides, I didn’t want to let dad know that she was. “Even with all your newfound wealth, the stories are an annuity that will take care of your children, and your children’s children, for generations to come.”It wouldn’t have been prudent to tell him that I was now capable of living for hundreds of years, as was my family, but his point was well-taken in another very real sense.“How about if I let them be an annuity for a charity instead?” I asked. That question was met with silence at first, then a cautious reply.“Which charity?” he. We swirl the ambrosia on our tongues, sucking oneach other’s lips. Not letting go, our bodies cometogether. My erect organ pokes into your chest, glidingbetween your hanging breasts. The swollen cockhead pokesyour throat. We are not finished with each other. Parting our sweat-joined bodies you get your first goodlook at my penis. As you take in my throbbing member,your hands roam up my thighs, my flanks, twirling yourfingers through my chest hair. Just inches from yourface, my penis juts.