She led me -- not to the refrigerator -- but to a plush couch in the living room area. Seated beside me, Lucy unceremoniously unzipped my fly.Well. Th...re had already been a strong hint that "dessert" might involve something along these lines, but I had dismissed that possibility earlier. Surely not.Oh, yeah! Surely not -- not!Lucy expertly fished out my hardening cock and held it, with a gentle grip, in her left hand. "You've got a beautiful penis," she said.Beautiful wasn't a word I was. Slipping on a shirt, pair oftrousers and my trainers I nipped out to the local bakery for somefresh croissants. I also picked up a bag of ripe oranges at thegreengrocers. So, by the time 'Sylvia' emerged, it was to the smell offreshly brewed coffee, warm croissants and freshly squeezed orangejuice. This morning she was simply dressed in a vee-necked purple andwhite-stripped tee shirt, white capris, and low, wedge-heeled sandals.Her blonde wig was pinned up and her makeup lightly applied,. Not to say I wouldn't have ended up that way anyway, it's just far more likely when there's only one layer of fabric between his touch and my body.We made plans for Wednesday night, but by Wednesday at lunchtime, Mother Nature had thrown a monkey wrench into the mix. Fucking bitch. Anyway... I don't particularly need an excuse to just suck cock, but Head Week gives me one anyway. My boytoy said he'd be fine with that... and then I opened my mouth. We had talked a little bit about him. The Comanches were surprised to find themselves warded off by 11 guns, instead of the 4 that they expected. By this time, the women had sufficient practice to be quite respectable shots, either with the rifle or the pistol, and the Comanches were limited to lances and bows as their weapons.To their surprise, the 23 Comanches were suddenly at a disadvantage, both for range and accuracy. What the hell!?! This wasn't supposed to happen. All of the old tales of attacks on Whites had them running in.