He comes back up and back down, until I am whimpering. Finally, he slips his tongue into my tight puckered hole. I lean into him more, giving him bett...r access to all of me. His right hand is resting on my hip, digging his fingers into my flesh. He takes his left hand, with a single finger, pushes it inside me. He begins to tongue fuck my arse, fucking my pussy with his finger. Quickly, his tongue is in and out of me. Fucking me a little faster, but his fingers moves slowly inside me. His. ”I asked Chrissy, “Does Roger have a bigger dick than me?” (Yea, I went straight there.) “Well,” Chrissy said. “Your dick is a longer but Roger’s is a bit thicker.” That’s good I thought. We both have something to be proud of. Chrissy stood up and wrapped her arms around my neck. “We’re all gonna have a lot of fun tonight.” She said. Then she kissed me passionately on the lips. Then she picked her clothes up from the livingroom floor and walked off to her bedroom. She knew I was watching her. He was simply pleasant and average, with an ordinary face whose only feature was small eyes set too close together that had a habit of nervously shifting around as if he were looking for somebody. Not exactly a boy you'd throw yourself at, she thought, but she was sure, from what Nancy had taught her, and from what Nancy had said in sly hints, that Nancy was "experienced" in sex. And that her teacher had been Jason--that in the cruder terms of her high-school chums, Jason was "balling" Nancy. Her English was heavily accented but much better than my Spanish, although I made a concerted effort to learn Spanish. I did pretty good. Ysabela was good and honest and religious. Every dime she made went either right back to her Guatemalan family or into a savings account, but honestly, she had a daughter here in Houston, a grey-eyed Anglo daughter whom she graced with long conversations about what was right and wrong with life.I learned from her. Morals. Life. Cooking. Being a decent human.