Wilson. I want you so much.” Then she dropped to her knees, pulled down my shorts and boxers, and started to suck me off.She seemed to be much bette... at it than on the previous night. Maybe my standing up was a better position for her because she easily took my cock down her throat. She still gagged but kept at it.I took her head in my hands and fucked her throat for about five minutes, then said, “Let’s go to bed, Beth.”She stood up, kissed me, and said, “Okay.”As I led her to my bedroom, she. If Super-Sister is becoming a distantmemory, Superboy has faded even further from the public's consciousness.How soon they forget. But I haven't forgotten that I spent the first halfof my life as a boy. I go days for a time without thinking about it, thenthe most mundane thing brings back the memory of my former life. Takethis morning, when I was getting ready for Miss Lane's visit. Even thoughPete insisted on buying us a washer and dryer last year, I still like tohang the wash outside to dry. I hung everything on a couple of barstools I often used. ‘Well?’ I asked quietly. ‘Don’t get mad.’ He started, squinting at the large canvas. ‘Oh, oh.’ I said. ‘You hate it.’ ‘No. No really.’ He didn’t move. ‘It’s just . . . You’re so much better than this.’ He shrugged. ‘What do you mean?’ I was instantly defensive even though it was sort of a compliment. ‘I thought it was coming out pretty good. I mean it’s not finished!’ ‘Hey,’ He smiled at me to calm me down. ‘I just mean … it’s sort of. You, me, and the marriage bed have an appointment, but with the clear understanding that I’m hardly the faithful sort. Then again, your first husband was a bugger, your second preferred torture to coupling, and your third was a sweet, pliable lad who shared your favors with me and your own brother, among others. Marriage by the book was never in the cards for you,” I proposed my own kind of marriage to Margaery Tyrell now.“You just want me for my castle!” Margaery teased me as I smacked her.