I can see and feel the memories as they make their way out and say "hello" to me.I think I understand how others feel when faced with similar episodes...I want to go back in time and change the events. Or, at the least, go up to those boys and tell them to knock it off. Leave the little kid alone.Another Interlude:I recall they day my son fell out of a tree. He was 6 years old. It was 1997.Our babysitter watched him, our daughter and a couple of other children.I was working at Merrill Lynch in. Each time had blown her mind. Nobody but Daryl ever drove her that insane when just kissing. The last time had been nearly a year ago, but it was still burned into her memory. It had been a Friday night just like this one. Daryl had come knocking, as he always did when he wasn’t in the mood to go out, but still wanted some company (the company in question was always her). They had gotten drunk on the merlot her boss had given her for Christmas. Before long, they’d had their arms wrapped around. Feminine moans and words escaped my lips. "Oh yeah. so goooooood. don'tstop. harder."He lowered his head and chest to me, and I wrapped by arms around him tokeep him pressed up against me. Our lips met and our tongue's danced ashe pounded into me.I could feel a wave of pleasure building. Somehow his cock grew biggerand harder inside of me. I knew he was about to erupt. Too soon, he beganto moan, then let out a scream of his own. I could feel him spasm insideof me, the hot cum splashing the. Shall I get flights booked from work?” “No flights. We’re taking a road trip.” You grinned at that, clearly impressed. We did very special road trips – long, open stretches on desolate roads. I could see the memories fly through your mind, the gleam of anticipation enter your eyes. “Awesome.” The week flew past in even more of a frenzy than the weeks before as we tried to justify our days off at such a critical time. At last we were able to leave, well-armed with compilation CDs we loved;.