Everybody has at least one story in them. I guess that’s where this one began. Mine was a commonplace biography until I was nineteen. Like most, it ...ad its share of the extremes, and an abundance of the boring stuff that happens in between. Kids have better and worse relationships with their parents; mine was better. Well with my mom anyway, since my father had died when I was six months old. I always assumed she’d be there for me, to tell me what she thought, and listen to whatever I had to. The rest of the morning was spent in a fog that not even an extra long shower could dissipate. Shaving, dressing, breakfast, all part of the same dream, throughout which Stephen kept looking at Sarah and imagined doing all sorts of dirty and nasty things to her. Finally, Sarah gathered her things and headed for the door. Stephen had always had a thing for beautiful women in business attire and always thought that Sarah looked stunning in them. Today she was wearing a crisp, short sleeved white. I made no attempt to cover it up. I really sensed how eerily silent things had become. I had really thought that my plan was dead when CJ spoke up and said "Maybe I'll try sleeping naked too." He pulled the top part of his sleeping bag back, lifted up and pulled his underwear off. He tossed them aside and this left his cock exposed. He had a nice looking cock and it was obvious that he was semi erect already. It wasn't sticking straight out, but it wasn't soft either. "I agree, there is. Jonathan, as she learned was his name, was a tall athletic looking man about 40 years old or so. He had a nice smile and easy manner about him, and had a look of surprised pleasure when he saw her. She stood to meet him and instead of grabbing her he took her hand and raised it to his lips, very much impressing her. He sat on the couch next to her, and they talked and laughed as her husband sat in an oversized love seat and occasionally chimed in.After several glasses of wine and pleasant.