I was even something of an artist, though I never shared any of mywork with anyone--not Rich and Phil and not even Melinda who, in manyways, I felt cl...ser to than Rich and Phil. They were just something Idid and I was never confident enough in my abilities to want anyone elseto read them. Perhaps it was this grounding in the fantastic that mademe enjoy Melinda's strange sexual scenarios.Rich and Phil and I had been friends since kindergarden and, in a way, Ienvied that they at least fit in with. She also had a very pretty face. Her eyes gave her a gentle, warm expression rather then the look of a wanton woman, which I imagined as a swinger she was. What a lucky girl she was. A husband who allowed her to taste the fruits of others and she had that wonder-cock to call her own at night.I mentioned to Jon that I was willing to try "anything" with these two and he smiled and said I was being quite obvious of my lust for Derrick's cock. I giggled like a schoolgirl. "I think it would be so. All of which Mrs. Robinson was happy to put into practice.She balked a couple of times, “Um ... no.”Then a night or two later, “You know, what we was talking about...”And Rebecca had a ... I don’t know what to call it ... a curiosity about her, I guess. Some adventure too. She’d always been friendly with the Bighorn whores, but she started hanging out with them more between customers.Talking, giggling, getting her own education.“Flint.”“Yeah.”She whispered in my ear.I looked at her. Stared.. We must try some simpler things." She led me to the tree and placed my hand on it.After a while a green tinge came over me and I felt nice, peaceful, one with myself, like after masturbating but without having to actually touch myself. Yeah, I thought, I'm so inhibited about touching myself. Ha! "I thought so," Emelda said, "you can take grave energy just like I can take sex energy. But perhaps, as we just saw, we should be careful of how much either of us try to handle." She touched my cheek.