"Finger yourself." You leaned back, fingers slipping into your wetness. Your body began to respond. Your breath quickened. Your hips rose and fell. ...he aroma of your own arousal filled your senses. Your eyes finally broke away from his. They followed his muscular torso, down to his crotch. You were taken in by the beauty of his shaft. It grew as his fingers stroked its length. It was large and thick, yet not too enormous as to frighten you. Your mouth watered, something deep inside made you. There must have been twenty people there and there was a small garbage can with what someone said was purple passion, a mixture of grape juice and pure grain liquor, about 150 proof. I took one swig and it burned all the way down. All I could say was, good, in a very hoarse voice. Marge refused to drink and said she would keep and eye on me so that I didn't get in trouble. Little did I know what she had in mind, if I had known, I would have skipped the party. It was about 10:30 and I started. To make the deal even sweeter, my A/C had taken a dump. The only cool came from my 2/60 A/C. That's two windows cranked down, 60 MPH. It was better than nothing, but not by a lot. I was glad I'd taken the chance to get a shower the night before. Still, I was hot and sticky from the humidity and temp, still above 80F.The plan was to get off the Ohio Pike, go east on I-76, hit a truck stop about five miles east and shove some groceries down my neck. If I had time I'd grab another shower and. The cover story I used at the Alamo 2011 was that I had a sophisticated electronics system that needed to be powered. The brain of the system was the MP3 type device. If I used it at night I could tell when and were the attacks was likely to be coming from, because I could hear them preparing for it.That being the case, I got no arguments about plugging into our portable generator. The compound had a generator, but we brought our own. While I charged I listened and watched the edge of the.