Betsy got there first. "Hello... ?" She said breathlessly. "Who?" A pause. "You must have the wrong number, there's nobody here named Mario." She hung...the receiver on the hook, disgusted."Let's watch the other tape." Betsy suggested, the sexual spell of the moment broken by the errant phone call. She plumped the pillows against the couch again before going to the VCR and inserting the tape she'd rented.She sat down with her back against the couch and patted the floor in front of her. "Why don't. "Let me help you," he said, and put his big, black hands on my shoulders and massaged them. That seemed to help even more, so I just laid there and enjoyed it, still feeling the buzzing, but at least the room had stopped spinning.He massaged my arms, my temples, and took off my socks and rubbed my feet. "That feels good," I said."Yeah, I had to learn all of this in my sports training," he told me."Really? What do you play?" Baseball, basketball, football, just about everything," he laughed.. Young girls are like helpless c***dren in the hands of amorous men, whatever is said to them is true and whatever manipulation on their bodies seems like love to them, sooner or later, they come back to their senses, but the scars are not dead inasmuch as her spoiler lives. No amount of me trying to explain myself was doing any good. I didn't even know what was going on inside of me, so how could I have explained it to them? But no matter how much evil I see, I think it’s important for everyone. However, I realized pretty quickly that I might still enjoy this one. She was a sexy little no-bullshit tomboy, a healthy, smart, and attractive young woman. She was a little bit shorter than the average woman, had a medium slender body, straight blond hair that didn't quite reach her neck, and a pleasant smile.I said, "Hi, I'm Brian, I'll be working on this wall." "O.k," she responded, and directed her attention back to the basketball game she was watching on t.v.Her ass was firm and smooth.