Kevin was busy playing games on his ps3. I simply sat on the sofa and said, “Kevin, I have something important to discuss with you.”“Yeah dad, w...at is it?” he said not bothering looking at me.“It’s about what I found in your room.” He stopped playing. The game wasn’t paused it was running but his hands were not moving. He didn’t look at me; he was just thinking what to do. After a few seconds he realized he cannot deny the inevitable and he looked at me. I could see terror in his eyes. He. It was like I am at the entrance of a stove, wet heat emanating from her aroused vagina was driving me nuts. As I tried to press it in, she was right, she was so tight, I needed more thrust to send it in.She shifted upward with a jerk trying to avoid the pain, “Putta… nidhana kano…. kanda nann math kelo beda…. beda…. aaaaaah,” and in one smooth stroke, I violated the most sacred of the moral codes of our society. I went in half the length, stopped, pulled out and then jabbed firmly yet gently. Shelly seemed better Wednesday, and as we worked on the latest assignment together after class, she opened up a little about herself; things like she came from Ohio and loved coffee ice cream with chocolate syrup. Nothing of what I was really interested in came out, but then I didn't expect her to ever admit anything to me. Unfortunately, because she was royally sucking in the class, she was making the conscious effort to pay attention better, thus my supply of fresh lesbian daydreams seemed to. I opened the wine and filled our glasses."Now," she said, taking a deep breath, "let me explain."I sipped my wine and crossed my legs. By candle light she was even more lovely."My husband is somewhere about, not far off I'm sure. This is my land, and I, like you, am a devoted patriot." She paused, looked over my head, blinked. "He is a bloody Tory." She wiped away a tear.Now I blinked having seldom heard a woman use that word in mixed company."This is my land. It was my father's, and he, my.