“Thanks,” he said, responding rather too quickly for my liking. “I’m William – but call be ‘Bill’”. “Bill,” I responded. “My nam...’s Paul.” He looked even more attentively at my bulges, and calmly asked, “Paul, eh? But what do I call you?” My face felt as though it was sunburned – but I don’t think that was the focus of his attention. “Sorry,” he said. “If I can have a little milk, perhaps I can call back later - when you’re more prepared for visitors.” “Yes,” I said, getting some milk from the. The room smelt of Dan. It was a smell she liked. Very male somehow, but not sweaty. His aftershave perhaps?Nikki stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself. A tiny pink lacy bra with a front fastening held her young breasts comfortably. They weren't small, but not outrageously big, she told herself. Just right? Maybe.She looked down to where her recently trimmed bush was hardly concealed by her matching pink thong. She turned around and looked over her shoulder at her rear. Not bad. And. "It was the first time I'd ever said those words to a man. Oh, I'd told men I loved their cocks, I'd told them I loved their smell, or the way they made me feel. But I'd never told a man I loved him.Art reached out his hand and took mine. Looking into my eyes, which were filled with tears, he said simply, "I love you too."He slept beside me that night, holding me close. In the morning we made quiet love together. That afternoon, I called him up and talked with him. We decided to try living. The blockish structure is weathered, but in fairly good condition. The lowest level is a bar called The Tapper. Ignoring the sign that says you must be 21 to enter, you push the door open and walk in.“Hey!” the woman behind the bar calls out when she sees you walk in, “You need to be 21.” You stop and look her over. She seems pretty average. She stands about five and a half feet tall. Her double D cups sag slightly over the slight paunch she carries. Her face isn’t unattractive, but the streaks.