“Y-yes!!” Brenda cried out, her mouth hanging open as she whimpered and panted, her tongue lolling, an invitation to the gothic girl to play. As W...llow looked down into Brenda’s eyes, she saw familiarity in them, an embarrassment and a desire, Brenda wanted this.“You really did a lot of work huh, how on earth did you persuade her into this?” Willow asked, almost casually as she laced her finger through Brenda’s sandy blonde hair, her other hand freeing her own cock from her panties, her length. She was as cute a little blonde bookworm as I had ever seen. I always favored the ‘Marion-the-librarian’ types anyway, there is just something about sweetness and simplicity in a girl. The ‘girl next door,’ isn’t that the saying? But, there she was. No pretenses, no airs, just understated … prettiness. I never cared for the skinny bitchy model types, so whiny and destined to make a misery of a man’s life. Like they say, for every beautiful woman, there is some guy that’s sick of putting up. It was a nice, fun experiment, certainly gave us a new experience, but the risks to the long-term health of our marriage from something so unlike us and so extreme are rather high for us. Perhaps we should write up our own contract once the youngsters make their pact and formalize it, Greta,” Dad decided, much to Mom’s relief.“Indeed. I think that you two always have your own special thing, and that’s good, folks. You share, but you’re really meant to do it your way, not how someone else does. She smiled and quickly winked at me as she exhaled and handed the lit pipe to her husband..."how are you little Billy?" she asked me, finishing her exhale. I asked to be excused and ran to my room, consumed with arousal. I had to play with myself really unknowing why or what had just happened to me.About 10 yrs. later, our family moved, Aunt Ann's husband passed away a couple years earlier, my older brother was in college and my parents were going away on a several day trip. I was fifteen, and.