He put his arm around me and we drifted off to sleep on our soaking towels. The last thought I remember is here I am, laying in bed with a black guy, ...edium brown really, and thinking I might be in heaven.Sometime the next morning the sunlight started to slowly rouse me. I was still laying on his shoulder, neither of us had moved since we went to sleep. As my eyes began to open I was staring directly at his cock, which was almost straight up. He had a beautiful morning wood. I did not want to. "At a party with about a dozen other teenage girls," she pointed out, "all in sexy outfits, dancing and wiggling their assets. No way will he hold out with all that on display."Luke listened to her, silently agreeing with her assessment. He was going to spend most of the evening hard, and everyone at the party was going to know it. As the guests arrived they were met in the hallway by an elegantly sexy girl in a naughty French Maid costume, who took their coats from them, putting them on a row. Her face was buried in the coverlet. Her ass was stuck up in the air. Her thighs were wide apart and my cock was right up her as I stood between them with her impaled. She was my next door neighbour and I'd only moved into the neighbourhood two weeks earlier. She'd struck up a conversation with me on the day I'd moved in, and now I could see what she had had in mind.After a day or two, she had invited herself into my house for coffee and a few days after that brushed aside the inevitable move. They collect tidbits of data concerning the real threat to the United States. And then 5225 acts on them.5225, as it calls itself, is run by a woman named Melody A, a 53 year old woman with three computers (only one of which is connected to the internet), a multi line phone, four pens, and a yellow legal pad on her desk. The 'A' is for Armstrong. The other ten or so people who are at HQ (everything is paramilitary there) also have initials instead of last names, and Melody A. is the only one.