"Who's Mr. Coleman?" I asked back.The boy gave me a concerned look.I noticed the open textbook. I thumbed through it and ran across a president's char... in the back. It ended with Ronald Reagan. No wonder our kids were stupid. The book, while in good condition, was over 25 years old. The book's copyright said 1982.An adult woman came into the room, followed by the girl who ran out and another man."He doesn't know who he is!" the boy said."Are you okay?" the woman asked, looking into my eyes."Are. Sure, she tried to struggle away, but I easily pulled the ninety-pound waif into my closer grasp. I crawled on top of her, covering and controlling her wee little form with my substantial, one-hundred-ninety pounds. Our faces were inches apart, and I drank in how her skin flushed prettily, how her nostrils flared rapidly, and how her pupils dilated into two big black pools.I reared up onto my knees, manhandling the girl into a position in which I could seize the waistband of her too-short. I said I don't think I could do that. He said that sure youcould. And as sexy as you are, it would be a bigger turn on for thetruck driver. Plus you will never see them again. Then he said, sit backand feel your breast. Think of some stranger checking out your sexypanties. I got really turned on thinking about it. I've never been onefor showing off, but this did kind of sound fun. He told me to rub mypussy and thing of all them men checking me out. The more I startedthinking about it, the. He waits, intently watching myevery move. I pick up my shoes and step closer to him, only to see himturn away and proceed towards the beach. Still holding his hand I fallslightly behind watching him move like a big black cat. A warm night breezepulls on his shirt making it balloon behind him, giving me glance of his tightbuttocks. We reach water line, sand feeling damp under my feet. The light of themoon is reflecting on mirror-like water and two dark pools on his face. Helets go of my hand and.