Your fingers begin spreading your slick fleshy lips exposing your sticky hole, which you notice I'm staring at whist licking my lips. Suddenly I lunge...at you, just as you're moving your hand away to lick your fingers and finally taste the flavour we've both enjoyed so many times before. By the time you've sampled your sweet juices I have one of your legs in each hand, pulling them wider as my head dives between them, you barely have time to undo the string securing your bikini before I pull it. As for the watching through the vent what teenager wasn’t curious about sex? It was wrong, but so what? It didn’t hurt anybody. Knowing that I had the truth on my side I headed on home to face the music.All that sweating and worrying and mom wasn’t even there when I got home. I fixed myself some leftovers and went to my room to try and study. I heard mom come in around eight and I waited for her to call for me to come down stairs or for her to come storming through my door, but neither one. It, or rather he, for I perceived the Kintinku to be masculine, spoke then, its language indecipherable except in tone; it was neither menacing nor fearful. Instead, it seemed somewhat amused or, perhaps, simply curious. In return I replied, hoping to communicate with the creature. It was reassuring, in a strange way, that he was obviously capable of doing me violence, for he chose not to. “Salutations and a good evening to you, kind sir.”The formal language of a life almost forgotten. No way!. But there is no other reason why I would be hard." he thought. He exited the shower, dried off and changed the sheets on his bed and laid down. The details of last night began to haunt him again. Tears running down his cheeks, snot running down his nose, his throat making noises it shouldn't be making. "Deep throating?", he thought. Hands rubbed his head as if to indicate that he could ease up on what he was doing, the person he was sucking off approved of his skills but didn't.