My parents were hard-working and not very much interested in what I was doing. I didn’t have anything like a time to come home or be in bed, do my h...mework or whatever else. I took care of myself and dealt with things the way I wanted. At 14 (a birthday which had been forgotten), I was nevertheless rather shy and not sure of myself. Too skinny and complexed about my body and yet small breasts, I had messed around a little with friends from school, but tended to prefer my bedroom and my hands to. Not without being asked, anyway.” His smile became a grin as he shook his head in disbelief, adding, “Whew. That was intense.”“Did you like it?” she asked.“I guess I must have,” he replied, after a moment. “I mean, you saw what happened. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard.” He raised his eyebrows comically. “At least, not by myself.” Jane smiled at this but said nothing as Peter went on, “But I think I like it better the other way around—you know, when I’m telling you what to do. And. I don’t know why. I’m not an ugly dude, I’m not unhealthy, and I’m not even overweight, if anything, I could use to gain a few pounds. She’s told me I have an attractive body, and that she’s already fantasized about having me in bed with her. Why is this emotional connection so bad? Slowly she moves her hand that is on my chest and caresses my cheek. She tells me how sorry she was for the day, and that she’s so greatful for me being there to protect her, and that she wants to thank me. Slowly. My latest live-in coed girlfriend, Amy, who I had been with for only about three months had broken up with me about a week and a half earlier just because I got carried away in the throes of passion one evening and forced her to swallow my cum from a great blow job that she had given me.I was depressed and horny since I had not had a good piece of ass or blow job since Amy left me. She was the latest little cunt that I had hooked up with in a string of about six or seven coed cunts that I had.