It was funny. I looked down at the outline of his pastel greensatin underwear. They draped gently over his body, like they were madeto fit it, with ju...t the slightest hint of a bulge in his crotch. Theymade his smooth legs look nice. His legs seemed to gradually get widerat the thighs and streamline into the rest of his body. I looked down atmy own pink underwear and got butterflies in my stomach when I saw thatmy legs looked almost as smooth as his.In the shower that day I was soaping my arms. Actually, nothing was said that evening although the atmosphere was a bit strained but once in their beds Raju ran his hand rapidly up and down his erect cock thinking about the expression on his mother's beautiful face as she had looked at his penis earlier and Manel masturbated thinking of the cock that was even more impressive than she had imagined.In view of the strained atmosphere the previous evening Manel decided that something had to be said so at breakfast the next morning she tried to. These were the people whose entire musical catalog was Grateful Dead albums and bootlegs tapes, or Dead influences, such as Coltrane and Charlie Christian. These were the people who traveled all over the country trying to see every Dead show they could.Maggie, I quickly learned, was a Tourhead. She'd actually gone to high school with Bob Weir and, I suspect, had spent a few nights in one or the other band member's beds back in the day.It was in mid-February that the moment of truth arrived. The. While doing that, I used the other hand to squeeze the base of my cock, maximizing what erection I had left. I guided my now hard dick into her open shithole. I began pumping to feel the blood rush back into my erection, then buried my self in her ass balls deep. Without skipping a beat, I picked up the dildo off of the bed, and began working its hard tip into the space between my dick and her ass sphincter. As I pressed in steadily with the dildo, her tight little shit hole gave way. My dick.