She did just that, I could see her throat pumping and swallowing. After licking and kissing the big head of his cock, she jumped up pulling her dress...over her head, saying 'It's my turn now, Tom, you promised to lick me.' Alice was naked under the dress, and I was surprized to see how her titties had grown, and the spread of her bottom. Most surprizing, though, was the blond hair that now covered her pussy. It was V-shaped and very thick, and it seemed such a short time ago it was. I touched her nether hole and her body flinched.I was late picking up the girls and as soon as Marge closed the door, she looked at me and began laughing. "You did it, I can tell by the look on your face."Dana was standing on the curb and she slammed the door shut as she sat heavily into the seat. I could see displeasure on her face.It changed to a big grin when Marge said, "JJ got his cherry busted this afternoon."Two blocks over, we began searching for Holly. She wasn't on the corner she was. We might not see them for another year or two!I skipped my 10th reunion at RPI in ‘87. Somehow it just felt weird. That seemed so long ago, and like a different life. I had been a scientist then, and only in ROTC so I could pledge Kegs and meet Marilyn again. Life had been so simple. I just wanted to find Marilyn again, and then settle down without any money problems. Instead, I had gotten a doctorate, gone career in the army, become a zillionaire, and written a book. I wasn’t sorry about any. MASTURBATORY CELEBRANTSSome poems are too big for your head,Some too big for your cunt (or cock and ballsIf you are a man's man, instead of a girly girl).Such poems exhaust the mind and deplete the soul,But, in the ecstasy that ensues Oneness with poetry,We are the greater, not the less, blessed despite our distress;Poetry teaches us the meanings of the worlds within us,Which, otherwise, are lost or scornedBy masturbatory celebrants of their own sperm.(Even the most microscopicOf my poemsIs too.