" I'm not talking about X-Boxes," Gus waved the objection away. "Haven't you seen how, when you go home for the holidays, everything has a web site no...? Everybody has e-mail and..." He sighed, " ... and all sorts of things that we don't use. My cousin says she can't imagine writing a term paper without the Internet and she'd two years younger than me." I don't know." Justin shook his head, "The Internet never seemed that great to me. E-mail's just a way for people to..." ... exert control over. In his shock that one of the most stunning girls - who had barely even looked at him before - was striking up conversation, he completely forgot about his command. He then noticed her blouse, slightly open, giving enough room for his eyes to soak up the sight of her ample cleavage. 'Oh, hi.' He still hadn't taken his eyes off her magnificent bust. She looked at him quizzically. She felt she ought to be annoyed at him. Furious even. But she just felt...milky. Something was...wrong. What was I. ‘Are you underaged or something?’ he asked her. Her voice rose an octave when she asked, ‘What?’ And then she let loose a mighty laugh, one that didn’t really fit her body. ‘Christ!’ she said. ‘I haven’t been underaged in about ten years.’ She kept laughing, falling back on the bed, holding her convulsing stomach. Dave gave up his search and stood there, watching her for a moment. He didn’t think it was very funny but he didn’t know what to do except watch her. Her legs were spread wide open,. One hand reached around to grasp her bottom and the other slowly stroked her soft inner thighs, migrating higher and higher with each stroke before finally reaching the apex. In a short time, Cynthia was huffing in a staccato of short explosive breaths. When her legs wobbled, Brad backed her up to the bed and laid her down. Forgetting his condition, Brad climbed on top as Cynthia spread her legs for him. As soon as Brad tried to mount, Cynthia began snickering. The more Brad tried, the more.