The pot that I save for the nights I’m home alone with Jane and like to get a little kinky. What the hell. "Yeah. I’ve got a little left to make a...joint or two." "Well – light it up," Scott told me. I headed for the kitchen and pulled out the dime bag, rolling paper and lighter and headed back to the couch to roll it up. Jane helped me as I was always a klutz when it came to rolling the paper. Finally, it was there. A nice big joint to share between the three of us. Being a nice host, I offered. His hair was thinning but his eyes were deep brown and his face well-defined, and his skin with a healthy glow (not perma-tan, but the kind of glow acquired from being happy). He had a deep, brooding kind of a gaze and at times a cheeky glint; which in her mind was a suggestive one. Despite these positive physical attributes he still had a kind of ruggedness about him. She watched him making bread one day and saw the veins and muscles dance while he kneaded the bread with care; this slightly. Her long black hair still had traces of wildness, as though she hadn't quite figured out how to tame it yet. She wore jeans and a denim tank top covered in band patches over a white T-shirt. Kevin noticed she was also wearing long arm warmers over her forearms even though it was the middle of summer. Overall she looked like an awkward girl that might one day bloom into a beautiful woman given years, experience and an injection of self-confidence."What would you like to drink, Mr Duncan?" Lois. Almost always when I would story tell in bed about another cock joining in, I would notice a little extra hunger and wetness in her pussy. And she never said no, just maybe or she wouldn't know unless she tried.This progressed to me writing stories for her to read and creating assignments, complete with pictures, for her to tell me what she liked, what she didn't. She always said that I had an active imagination and a very naughty mind. But she always looked forward to the assignments and we.