Speaking of cocks and sex, everyone knows that the basic descriptors are those relating to size and also the word hard. For it to do its intended task...in the reproductive cycle, even when reproduction is not desired, it must be rock hard. Otherwise it would be flaccid, which is the polite word for useless – except to piss.But in my mind – and mouth – or hand – soft is also good. No, not good, make that exciting and delicious.And yes, that ninety percent of the cock that you never see, that. Me: Sorry.She: It’s okay.Then we chatted like this for a week or so.Then one day she texted me and saidShe: I had a fight with my husband.I think he is cheating on me.Me: Don’t worry.Can we meet?Maybe I can help you.She: Not now.Aisa kro tum kal 11 bje ke baad ghr aa jaao mere.Office bhi bnd h..aur vo bhi shop pe jaaenge.Me: Okay.I was on cloud 9.Next day I was at her door.She welcomed me and we offered me coffee.We were talking about her husband and suddenly she started crying.I hugged her. He had seen photos of her in concert, but nothing prepared him for the dark haired beauty standing on the steps awaiting him.She was slim with fairly small breasts the outline of her nipples standing clear through the plain tee shirt. Her short skirt revealed calves and thighs in perfect proportion. Her face was pretty and everything about it was in ideal proportion.Like any male, he was immediately attracted to her, and she smiled broadly at him as he climbed out of the cab and paid the. Jane sighed, growing more serious. "My mother said it best though I think. She'd say 'if you look back at the year behind you, and it doesn't make you want to cry-either out of sadness or joy- you've wasted it."Maura looked down, eyes resting on Jane's hands. She was not usually given to those kinds of sentiments, not easily anyway. But even she was not immune to the time of year. "Have you wasted it?" she asked quietly. Maura didn't dare looked up lest she catch a glimpse of everything she had.