" Would what I am wearing be appropriate?" Definitely." This was one of the most expensive places to eat in town. For some reason I wanted to impress ...iane Billings.Over dinner I found out more about Diane. Her parents lived in Manhatten NY and were originally hippies. She confided they still were and living much as they had back in that era. At one time they had lived in a commune not far from here. Grown up now, Diane had come up to Vermont looking for the places her folks talked about so. His hair was lighter and his brown eyes appeared to be blue now. Rachel suddenly felt like everything was a bit off. Whose boat was she on? And why was she lying topless on the deck while Derrick worked his hands all over her? Nothing really made clear sense. She couldn’t even remember how she had gotten there. She focused hard through the pleasure she was feeling and tried to put the pieces back together. The last thing she truly remembered was being back at the house. It had been nighttime. His pants were open and being held up by his left hand. His right hand held his urinating dick. And a fine dick it was too. I unzipped and pulled out my pecker and held it with my left hand. This way he could look at it if he wished. He was a cute guy, maybe 30 - 35 years old. About my height, stocky build, clean-cut. I asked him, "How's it going". "Good", he replied. I didn't have to piss, but I tugged on my foreskin and stroked and played with my dick. When he was through pissing he started. All that mattered was making sure Steffan was alright. He was bleeding, but the bites weren’t all that bad. We were both going to have scars, but like our father had told us, “A man without scars is a man who has done nothing worthwhile.”. I looked up at Yellow Mike, his almond shaped eyes staring at me in disbelief, as I made sure Steffan was fed. When I heard the crack. The side of his head exploded, and he pitched forward into the ring. Dead.Our savior moved like a wraith. Silent. Stalking.