And, in spite of the beer, I found myself responding. It made for awkward moments: any man that’s worn Levis’ 501 button-fly jeans knows they’re...not the most comfortable casing for a growing hard-on. Months passed, and Bill’s work schedule changed: swing shift, 3pm to midnight. Not only that, but he fell into the habit of closing the local bars with work buddies, putting him home in the wee-small hours of the morning, with just enough time to pass out, sleep it off, and get up again just in. She wrapped her arms around Neelam’s body, under her arms and cupped each breast, again covering the front. The base of her hands were cupping the full mound and her fingers were over the nipples. He took a few shots with Neelam looking straight at him, then she leaned back into Pooja and looked at her face under the veil. Her look was that of a lover lying in her soulmate’s arms, he photographed this highly errotic scene the shutter clicking as fast as it could. Pooja leaned her face forward. "Of course Imogen lacked a parental permission form - it could hardly be otherwise, given that she lacked parents, so far as she knew. Imogen did not doubt that if she'd asked Professor McGonagall for permission to visit Hogsmeade, it would have been readily granted. But she preferred to use the day to catch up on her work, and she thought that she was not unhappy about missing the day's activities - her excellent recollection of 'the books' gave her a good idea of what was to be expected from. She replied: “Yeah, we should go to your cabin.” I had no sooner closed the cabin door when she scooted up to me. With one hand on my crotch and the other on the back of my neck she gave me a long French kiss, and when she broke it off she said “I hope the nice thing you want me to do for you is to fuck your brains out, cause that’s why I’m here.” With that I picked her up with her legs straddling my body and kissed her deeply as I carried her to the bed and bounced her backside on it. I.