I loved this feeling and was taken back as no one had ever touched them but my brother while taking advantage of my sleeping(another story-search).Now...i felt a hand move from my back to on my butt entering from my skirt lifting it up a little,I was shocked by this.Just as i looked back the guy with the newspaper wasnt there anymore this was some other guy who had been poking my butt from 20 mins or so touching my ass cheeks.His palm touched my bare skin,it was a sensation that couldnt not be. Shuttles would ferry them to the orbiting starship Gardener, she said (the ship had been re­christened for the mission, von Braun—its original name—not being deemed adequately symbolic). She told them how much gear, by mass, each was permitted, spelled out what items were mandatory and offered suggestions on optional additions. She also described the ship's equi­p­age: sleeping accommodations, scientific equipment, recreational facilities (including a large physical fitness compartment), game. That's because he was probably a dork when he was in school too. Most people are.Anyway, back to fighting. You'll never in a million years guess who taught me to fight.Louis L'Amour.That's right. I read his books, which were about guys like me, who were at the bottom of the food chain, and who got picked on and abused, and then rose up to say "No more!" and beat the crap out of some bully. They always got beat up too, in his books, but they won. And the way they won was to never give up and. He heard the other girl’s voice and instantly visions of fucking two women came to mind. The door re-opened and closed and only Monica had come back to the bedroom. He had not moved during her absence. The mere thought of a threesome kept him hard. ‘Glad to see you haven’t moved. Very glad you kept your hard-on. Without that you are not much use to me.’ Monica walked over and leaned across his body placing her mouth next to his ear. ‘Don’t move. This next part is your final test… and your last.