I don't even remember going to bed last night."Neither the mother nor daughter noticed the smile on Arnold Spender's face. He was quite used to her pr...tense that she didn't remember a thing... especially after they had enjoyed a particularly wanton session of lovemaking... and the more uninhibited she had been the night before, the less she pretended to remember.Linda, however, wondered if her father had also suffered a blackout, if what she had witnessed had been performed while they were both. It sounded like claptrap to me, but I’ve never been known for my free thinking. To top it off, so she told me, the instructor was this gorgeous hunk of a Frenchman, named Marcel.Friday morning, over breakfast, she brought him up again. That was unusual, and I started getting a slight twinge in my gut. “Should I be worried?” I asked her across the kitchen table.“About Yogi Marcel,” she asked, not realizing how silly she sounded. I couldn’t help but chuckle.“Yogi? Is he smarter than the average. I was just a k** and had fooled around with a few neighbor boys by showing each other our little dicks, comparing them, stroking them and feeling the release before we could even ejaculate. My neighbors older brother directed us from time to time but never really showed his cock that I can remember. One afternoon that changed, and with it, my obsession with big hard cocks began.We had been playing it their basement and had our pants down with our little boners out when the older brother came. That girl was kind of hot in a fucked-up way. She had this deep red hair that was obviously out of a bottle, but she had a cute face. The girl next to her had the blackest hair I’d ever seen. It was so black that when the light from the window hit it you caught a glimpse of deep purple. Their bandmate one row up had pure white hair that reminded me of Suzanne.Amy turned to me and latched onto my arm.“Have you ever been on a flight that had problems?” she asked.“Only when we didn’t go fast.