Another thing, Sandy, she didn't need to be held down or forced. She always either asked for it to happen or else she gave her consent before things h...ppened. She always was given the choice. In the fantasy you described, it sounds like you wanted to be forced into doing things. I could never be comfortable with doing that. Pretending to force you, I could do that if you wanted me to, asked me to." Well, it was only a fantasy, like you said. In my fantasy, I found it more exciting to be held. "Before he could get through the door to the kitchen, a weak voice called out."Huh? Whozzat?"He turned back to the couch. Mrs. Keaton was struggling to a sitting position, blinking her eyes rapidly and scrunching up her face in a squint."Steven?" she said, her voice gaining strength. "Is that you?"Skippy was shorter and broader than her husband, and younger and dumpier, and he had no beard. But he was wearing a red plaid shirt and jeans.He took a few steps toward her. "No, Mrs. Keaton, it's me,. ‘Let’s see,’ she continued, ‘maybe Texas?’ King looked at her and nodded, ‘Bingo! I’m impressed. I didn’t think you Carolina girls had much ability to distinguish the different accents.’ Freddie looked at him suspiciously. ‘Just how many of us ‘Carolina’ girls do you know?’ King laughed out loud then said, ‘Well, I might be from Texas, but I got my degree from N.C. State.’ Freddie squealed in delight, ‘No kidding?!? So did I! I can’t believe this. When were you there?’ King looked as though he. Eric, keeping eye contact with her the whole time, started leading the way down her body with butterfly kisses until he met her belt buckle with his top lip. He reversed his direction and kissed toward her bellybutton until he felt the coolness of her piercing fill his mouth. Lightly he bit and tugged at the jewelry whilst his hands were expertly unclasping her belt and then her pants. Abruptly stopping, Eric stuck his fingers within the sides of her pants and slowly started to slide them off..