In the middle of the kiss I realized, startled, what I was doing. My conscious mind knew better to jerk back. It would confuse, perhaps bother my son....I went through a period where I didn’t use my tongue except for a brief coda at the end of the embrace.Then, as I told Peggy, “Fuck it. I love him. A French Kiss is an expression of affection. Yeah, it’s probably inappropriate in Walker’s case. Too intimate. But fuck it.”Peggy has always encouraged any and all things sexual and said, merely, “Go. It wasn’t long before he had stirred that feeling and desire for that climax that I was cheated out of. Terry picked up speed and I knew that it would not be long before I would get there. I felt him grab hold of my hips and then cram his cock as far in me as he could. He did it again -- he came before I did and again I was cheated from having that huge climax that was just beyond my reach. Terry pulled his log out of me and then said, “Stay just like that. Charlie is here and he gets another. While she floated downstream I noticed her taking a few quick glances in my direction. When she reached the spot where she first started swimming, she flipped back over and started to swim upstream again. This time when she swam I was reminded of what a great ass she had as it bobbed up and down in the water. I was really getting into the whole experience of watching this sexy, young nymph who, while knowing she was being watched, seemed to be totally relaxed. I could clearly. There were oftentimes Dom/Sub themes to these stories. I'd found male Dom fare intriguing for some time, and the idea that he too had a taste for this kink made him that much more desirable to me. Maybe this was the man who I could finally explore this side of myself with. I thought if I could just put up with his email/story game until he was comfortable enough, maybe trusted me enough, to play a little in the real world, then maybe he could be what I'd been waiting for sexually. His writing.