“Oh it is,” Sandra assured her. “It’s not like we were young and originally with boys their age. Now you have all that experience and they jus... want to take it all in.”“Well some of us have all that experience,” Emily noted.“Don’t sell your self short, girlfriend,” Sandra said. “Even if all your experience was with just Mark, I doubt that, after twenty-five years together, that you didn’t learn a few tricks.”Emily smiled. Monogamous they might have been, but the intensity of their sex lives had. "Brad paused, his eyes flicking downward briefly as she zipped her jeans closed. "Heather, don't you be letting some other guy fuck you. I mean it. Not before you do it with me."At first Heather looked at Brad anxiously, but it quickly turned to indignation. "Don't tell me what to do, Brad." What, you mean you want to fuck another guy?!" No! Shit, Brad, stop twisting my words around! I can guarantee you, I did not want anyone else to fuck me."Heather was able to say this last statement with a. ’ ‘A horse’s ass. Now that’s something I’d like to see Jean boil before it gets smeared with barbecue sauce! Jean, that was a wonderful meal, just like every meal we’ve ever had over here. Wake up. Louie, we should probably get going, too.’ It was then that all of the fun, all of the good food and good company came to a crashing end when my dad said, ‘Jean, you should probably take Mike back now. I don’t want you driving through that construction in Fountain Valley in the dark.’ Suddenly, I. But your locked in, tunnel vision, periscope with the cross hairs dialed in. Your Torpedo is, locked, loaded and primed, ready to burst open her tiny backside, sink her ship, dropping a nuclear milky white load deep inside her. Gaping a massive hole in the crack of her backside. Seamen spend long hours at their station, standing, rocking to the ways of the ocean and that's a good thing. She wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for a week when I was done with her. I brushed her hair away from her.