His fingers are so cold they hardly bend at all. The important thing is to make noise and stay sort of with the beat.The frantic noise faded and he wo...e. He thought of the dream and realized that he'd become aroused. Why he didn't exactly know. The details of the dream slipped away. He thought that that was the good thing about dreams, how they faded. All he could remember was drums and excitement. He considered getting up and walking down the dark silent hall to the bathroom to masturbate. It. McMarthy was a petite woman. At barely 5 feet tall, she was about 40 years old at the time (1967), weighed 100 pounds, had short reddish hair, small breasts, shapely ass, nice legs, and a cute Irish face. She was very fickle and fun-loving and married to a travelling salesman. Her two teenage c***dren were named Kathy and Billy. The McCarthy 's house was a crash pad for Billy and his friends. The usual group was Jerry (me), Jack and Mike and Mel. Usually, we would watch TV in the living room,. He gives a little hiss as they cup his penis that is barely tucked back into his trousers. I start my own rubbing. He turns hard in no time. His fingers clench and unclench on my butt. I push his shirt aside with my other hand and start to lick my way across his chest."You, are an unholy terror," he says, he voice has turned thick with passion.I giggle at him but don't stop. I move my licking down his torso putting all my knowledge to work. He hisses again guessing my destination."Let me love. It wasn't turkey, but John managed to find a couple of steaks in the freezer.It was quite the nicest Christmas she could remember; certainly the best she'd had in many years.It was Thursday before she made it back to her apartment on Point Drive, and she only made it then because John had to do some grocery shopping, and she figured that she'd better check her mail and access the mainframe for E-Mail.She'd mellowed considerably in the last few days. The world seemed a better place, more.