But, getting up would be too much work. Plus, my bed is really cozy.I burrow myself further into the Ducklett-down mattress, pressing my big, poofy bl...nkets against my bare figure. I couldn't sleep, and only the moon, my computer, the ceiling, and my bed were here for company. I wasn't going to talk to them, of course, that would be crazy. Anyways, I just couldn't fall asleep, I'd been waiting my whole life for this moment. Well, tomorrow, at least. Now sucks. Once again, I squirm myself deeper. (We always said half our school friends carried guns legally and the other half, illegally.) Anyway, there wasn't all that much traffic about in those days, because cars were still a bit of a luxury and people didn't want to be out late at nights. As long as the driver was sober, and you weren't tearing the arse out of it, the police would use their discretion. They just wanted to see people get home safe. So we had a high old time when we could.Okay, by now you have a broad outline of our. "You don't remember my mother?" She never came down to inspect the kitchens," said Paul."Hers were big. Huge, in fact. I used to get really embarrassed about them. You know how parents always pretend to be twenty years younger than they really are? That's how mine are. Or were. They used to try and dance! Ick! Can you imagine what Mom looked like, wobbling her chest about all over the place, trying to dance? I couldn't watch her, it was so embarrassing!" Was she as big as you? Her ... chest, I. Then, to my shock, her finger stroked down my jawline.It sent this intimate tingle through me. What was she doing?Her finger stroked over my cheek, rasping over my stubble, and then stroked my mustache. I learned the ladies liked a good mustache. She ran her digit through the whiskers on my upper lip. My dick throbbed harder.What was she doing?“Shannon?” I croaked.“You should grow a quarantine beard!” she exclaimed. “Your mustache is great, but you could be all grizzly. Get it nice and.