I usually left kissing for real love, not the sex I sometimes kept at work. Kissing felt real to me, an indication of affection greater than sex. Sex ...ithout a kiss was professional, passionate sex happens at eye level. I let my lips drop onto his back. What did he feel then? My nude body was descending on him whether he sought it or no. My ass was on his, gently rubbing against it as I ground my pelvis against him to gain what little pleasure I could. My breasts were always what they noticed. Boys were the furthest thing from my mind. Usually they just tried to grope me and wanted me to touch them. I never went past that with them because it would ruin my reputation and I would never get one to marry me afterwards. So was life in the fifties.It was different with Red. He was a big red haired mutt, half hound and half something else. I loved his tongue. It was long and raspy and could work wonders on my pussy. I remember the first time when he first smelled my crotch and wanted to. .. go down, down,down. Deep down, through the clouds and descend into Turkey. Rememberthe shape of Turkey on the map I showed you. Descend down into there.Find Tarsus. You should feel it drawing you like a magnet if you were infact Cleopatra.''Yes!' she cried. 'I see it. It's a river, with many small boats. Butthere isn't a barge, like I've always read.''Historians are hardly as precise we scientists,' grumbled Whitby. 'Thedate of the occurrence is doubtless listed incorrectly in my. Mark and Adam, the guy that gave me the creeps, had disappeared but the back yard wasn’t that large so they had to be around here somewhere. I was into a discussion about the value of fresh vegetables and the girls were promising to take me with them to the local Farmers’ Market next week when we heard it.“You asshole!”“Slut!”It was followed by what could only be the sound of a fist hitting something solid, then a man came out of the little alcove with the table dragging a woman behind him. A.