When that shirt was off, I raised my arms. She looked at me just a moment, before she started pulling my t-shirt over my body. Ok, so I was twenty-fo...r, almost twenty-five at the time, not nineteen like Id said, and I did have a fair amount of hair on my chest and stomach. And, like the hair everywhere else on my body, it was dark, which I think makes it look like there is more than there really is, but anyway, she was fascinated by it. Even before she pushed my t-shirt over my head, I could. This was hot. She was across the room, sitting looking into a large mirror, working her makeup. Her back was to me, but she looked up at me in her mirror. She wore a loose cami over a black strappy sheer body suit with a thong back peeping above her skin tight ripped jeans. She turned and looked at me. Her eyeshaddow was a touch of crystal into pink blazing into purple to a razor sharp pointed black cat eye. Her light green eyes pierced through the thick sexy blaze of makeup. She smiled. She. John’s dad was a lawyer and very intimidating – dark suits, grey beard, bald head and permanent scowl. Mrs Morgan by contrast was lovely, a tanned gym bunny who seemed to spend her life pottering around their house in tracksuit bottoms and tight t-shirts, much to my delight. One day I popped over to borrow one of John’s videos. John and his dad were was out, but Mrs Morgan was her usual happy bouncy self. “Come in, I think it’s in the VCR already” she said and turned on the television. The. . Sandra was my first... the first to ever take me by complete surprise. It was as if we both were complete virgins until tonight. I was falling in love... The night evolved as it should have... Sandra's eagerness proved its merit by immersing me in her domain-- keeping me safely submerged for what felt like hours. All thoughts of time and the outside world vanished in the wake of Sandra's merciless tongue. There was no curve untouched, no crevice left cared for. Gentle cries flourished into.