“You know how to play the whistle?” he asked with a quizzical look on his face. “But you’re a yank.” “Aye, but Irish by...ancestry,” I assured him. “Besides, it might be good for a laugh if I screw it all up.” He agreed and they quickly introduced me to the audience and he handed me the small brass tube. As soon as my fingers touched the smooth metal I could feel the magic course thru me and I took the whistle with confidence. That first. No Simpsons characters, since I already have one story about the Simpsons.Minium length of chapters are 2 paragraphs-10 coherent sentences.No hard BDSM.Owner and creator of this story reserves the right to approve or not a particular chapter even if that one doesn’t break any of the previous mentioned rules.No underage sex, teenager characters ONLY can have ENF adventures or something like that, no sex, blowjob, etc.After saying the general and expandables rules (I can add more rules if I feel. Ryan looked into her eyes again, a gentle, tender look. ‘Goodnight, Gem.’ He breathed, rolling over. … The next morning Ryan awoke when he heard the faint sound of his phone alarm. He showered and got dressed for his breakfast meeting. Before leaving, he sat on Gemma’s side of the bed and brushed the hair away from her face, kissing her forehead softly. An hour or so later, Gemma woke up and decided it was time to go home. She was disappointed to find an empty bed and even more disappointed. I saw her looking at my naked pussy as she sat down on the blanket too. The way she sat was to where we were both kind of looking in the same direction but she could also turn her head just a little and look directly at me. Several times as we sat there eating and talking I felt her stealing glances at my pussy that was beginning to leak. We continued to talk and discussed everything from our marriages, children, our jobs and soon we found that we had many things in common.Each time I would.