Wynn rolled and settled his back again the sheeted mattress. He put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He remembered saying ‘All o... the above’. He waited to see if Marcy remembered as well. She did. Marcy rose and moved her head under the covers to Wynn’s midsection. Wynn felt a tongue lap his shaft, then another. A hand positioned and held it. Lips descended over the top and closed below the crown. A tongue tip probed the slit. The tongue wiped around the knob. The lips. "You see my first boyfriend treated me like that, and I got off on it. I tried to find someone else who would give me that sort of treatment after we broke up, but I never did. A couple of guys tried, like James, but no one could give me the hard rough slut treatment I so love," Emily said.This was too good to be true! Emily wanted to be a slut, to be used and degraded, humiliated and treated like street trash! This was going to be some vacation!"Well, Emily, if that is what you like and what. I want to send her some flowers when she is in Mobile, and I want to surprise her in Atlanta and book us a room and spend the weekend there just the two of us, but I need to know when and where she will be staying. Can you help me?" Oh Mr. Sterling, what a nice gesture. And how sweet of you to think of such a romantic thing. Most husbands wouldn't even remember a wife's birthday let alone plan something like this. Let me transfer you to Barbara; she makes all the travel plans for our company.. She was a unique seventeen yeard old girl. She wasn't makeup-and-clothes-obsessed, she wasn't a mouthy brat, she wasn't an angst-ridden teenager, she just was who she was. Her hair was a shade of red you could never bottle. Her eyes were hazel, my favorite eye-color on a woman, always swirling with emotions and mystery. She liked the same music as me, the same literature, the same sports (actually she only liked two sports, but they are my two favorite sports). I'll even admit that I would.