" she said with wonder."Girls. I find models for the magazine. Centerfolds, pictorials, other stuff." I shrugged. She was fascinated. Pretty girls usu...lly are when they think about the fame and fortune that can come from being photographed in a classy men's magazine. I mean, she'll happily take off her clothes in front of a stranger with a camera. But do you think she'll let you unbutton her blouse in the back of a Ford? Not likely. Well, not without a fight, anyway. Women are stupid.The second. "I want you to cum down my throat and into my stomach."Lauren teased me again by repeating the slow, agonizing deep throat again. I watched as her eyes locked onto mine as she buried my dick in her mouth. Before I could say a word, she started bobbing her head up and down at breakneck pace."Shit!" I said as again she had me clawing at the sheets as I was about to cum. I instinctively reached for her head. She pushed my hands aside as she buried her head against me. She never needed help burying. Crosstie was a pound puppy, not raised as a racing dog, and was good for team training, but she really wasn't a racing dog any more. The thought saddened Josh a little; Crosstie had taught him more about racing sled dogs than he'd learned anywhere else.Josh also had a pretty good command leader in Switchstand -- but Switchstand, plain and simple, was a sprint leader, and could go like the wind on a well-groomed trail but pooped out after ten miles or so, and wasn't very good at following rough. She slowed her drinking down not wanting to embarrass herself by being sick in Greg's room.As the time rolled on the drinks flowed easily, each member of the group fell into an easy freiendship. As the time ticked away slowly the group started to separate ways, making their ways home, soon leaving Elissa and Greg alone. Softly Greg took Elissa's hand smiling at her."Shall we go back to my room, its quieter than here and I have alcohol if you want to continue drinking?" His words were quiet but.