I love it when boys write them, but I like them more when their mothers write it, their aunts, etc. because it’s them which I can relate to the most... I also get turned on when I read those stories about mature women who turn on the spark in shy kids that are still unaware of the world of sex, those women who teach the kids a world full of new feelings, wetness and pleasure and let them inside the sweetest and wildest sexual experiences.I love relating myself to those lucky women that enjoy. My chest shudders, my head spins, and I stumble forward into her waiting arms, fall to my knees and bury my weeping face in the tender softness of her belly. Each tear paints a dark Rorschach blot emergency call on her bright blue dress. One. Help me. Two. I’m so afraid. Three. Who am I? Four. Why me? Her hands on my head, her fingers in my hair, her voice, saturated and deep from the closeness reaches deep, deep into the dark well of my confidence, finds and smothers the leak of anxiety that. ..relax and let meget on with it!' His tongue resumed it's ministrations. He pushed her leftleg off the sofa, placing her foot on the ground, her right one he restedon the back of the sofa. She felt extremely vulnerable, spread-eagled asshe was. Pulses of feeling began to run up and down her body. His tonguewas playing havoc! 'Please, don't do that....' He lifted his head and smiled. 'I was just about to stop, actually!' He hauled himself to his feet andstraddled her. His cock bobbed. For four years, several of the girls in the two dorms I'd lived in had freely shared themselves with me sexually. We were all serious about grades and studying. Dating, not to mention relationships with guys, was a distraction we couldn't afford. Bi-sex was our simple solution; safe, easy and casual. But when Sarah joined that cadre of beautiful girls I turned to for a little sexual release, I knew it was to be different with her.We shared something more that first morning in the shower when we.