Ah Sandra Johnson." Yes I read it. It was well written, a fun read, sexy, with strong, believable characters, and a good plot. She's a very good write...." She laughed cynically. "A best-selling author makes a lot of money. She won't be a gold digger like that Anderson slut."I groaned. "Be nice, Mother." Tell me about the other one." Nicole is a Ph.D. candidate at Harvard - economics." What's her last name? I'll have her checked out." Johnson." What are they? Sisters?" No, wives. They're both. It was her son, certainly. But he looked like me in a few ways, not absolutely distinctly. He also looked to be about 30 years old, which ... no. It couldn’t be. It could not be.“Hello,” he said, only the faintest of New Orleans accent, “I’m Jean-Louis, Ambrosine was my mother. Are you the Johnny she met on the train in 1985?”Jean-Louis? I knew her father’s name was Lew, because that’s what a friend in the kitchen called him when he was mentioned. Jean-Louis. Zhon-Looey. John Louis. No, it. ..I then left her, as another batch of feminine girls then arrived. And with that, my night had seemingly improved!The drinks then began flowing. The more drunk I got, the better my dancing got. After a couple of hours of pissing off the lesbians with my dancing, I decided to upset a few more by taking my shirt off.So as I paraded around the club with my lack of breasts. And who should catch my eye in my drunked state? Young lovely from the start of the evening. She'd also reached a level of. I looked up at Tyler's face and felt assured that he was sound asleep. It was pretty risky, but the urge to touch that big beautiful penis was just too much to ignore. I worked up the courage to go for it, and slowly moved my hand down towards his waist. I thought I should test the waters a little first and started with just the tips of my fingers. Tyler didn't move a bit and gave no signs of waking up.That gave me even more courage to go a little further, so again with my fingertips, I began.