.. Then! then! for the first time, did I feel that stiff horn-hard gristle, battering against the tender part; but imagine to yourself his surprise, w...en he found, after several vigorous pushes, which hurt me extremely, that he made not the least impression.I complained, but tenderly complained: “I could not bear it... indeed he hurt me!...” Still he thought no more, than that being so young, the largeness of his machine (for few men could dispute size with him) made all the difficulty; and. Go deep!You: What the fuck, I want a cream pie, God damn it!Me: (shoots a torrent of baby batter your ways) Touchdown! Right on that third eye of yours... wait for it... (dribbles down face, tits, belly, into lovely sweet cunt. 2 point conversion success! Still the greatest!You: Challenge!Kids: (storm into oval office) Gross! Is there a room in this God damn white house you two haven't swapped fluids?Me: Language, young lady and man! Since you're here can we get a ruling from are. We talked and plastered ourselves with compliments, authentic compliments. Liz didn't get enough, and frankly, I felt for more fucking too. She lived nearby, a ten-minute walk, in a student dorm. We entered the building, and I was relieved to see I wasn't the oldest one by the look. Her room was small but tidy, a lot of books s**ttered on a desk and floor. A box was filled with countless toys she got from the adult-shop. We undressed quickly and twisted our tongues. It ended up in boob bondage,. She nodded. ‘Yes, I can see that. And you’re right, you never tried to run my life for me, in fact the very reverse. But you will be spending on me, won’t you? You’ll come and visit me at weekends, so there’s petrol [gas] to pay, more if you come and bring me home.’ She used the word ‘home’ so naturally I smiled, and then she had to explain why. ‘Of course this is home. Home is where you are, with you. Really, you know, looking back on life with my parents, I never felt truly at home. Dad.