Instead, I leaned into it, rubbing my clitoris harder and harder, faster and faster, provoking javelins of pure pleasure to slice through my body, lea...ing fires of sensation in their wake. Breathing hard, on the brink of surrender, I peered up at Laura, gazing over her toes. Her face was a mask of utter desire, eyes squeezed shut, lips hanging open, chest and neck flush crimson as she fought her own internal struggle.All of a sudden, I felt her toes curl against my face, I felt a long shudder. My"boyfriend" apparently wasn't ready to accept or acknowledge his ownsituation. In a sense, Sam was more masculine than I was feminine. I knewhe lifted weights. If he got his hair cut short as planned, no one wouldever mistake him for a girl again. Well, not for a few years when hefailed to display any facial hair and his voice didn't drop. Though I hadto admit, Sam's voice was already deeper than my own."Could we go Saturday night?" I asked him as we neared our destination. Ithink that by. Quite unexpectedly, she arched her back and nearly screamed. I thought that this was through my ministrations and set to with further gusto; she relaxed somewhat; and reverted to her more usual moans and hip thrusts. This mystified me a little, but I carried on and added to the action, some kissing around her neck and shoulders, this usually had a direct result too. Again, she arched her back and bit her hand, trying not to make too much noise. I was thrilled at the response she was showing and. " That would be great. I appreciate it. What number do I use to call him?" His number is 555-1212. I'll call him right now and call you back." Thanks. Goodbye."A few minutes later, the phone rang and Dad answered, "Hello? Hi, Joe, thanks a lot. I'll call him right now."Dad dialed and said, "Everett Johnson? This is Douglas McLoud. Joe Jones said that I could call you to put some money on the Red Sox-Yankees game on July 4th. What are the odds on the Red Sox winning? 10 to 1? Wow! I'd like to.