This sort of trouble was unusual for Tricia. Usually the good girl in any crowd, Tricia never made waves, never went to the edge. This was all so very...new. Foggy and hung over from the unexpected adventures of the past night, and with a ratty strand of Christmas lights blinking a tedious, dreadful pattern of glare and gloom above her head, Tricia with eyes closed, carefully began putting last night’s pieces back into place; A worthy job in her condition. The food, the bar, the drinks, the. Slowly unbuttoning his pants, she pulls the zipper down, careful not to catch anything sensitive and ruin the fun. Rubbing the hard length of him against her cheek, she looks up at him, gauging how badly he wants her. Eyes closed in pleasure, biting his lip, with the moonlight bathing his face, she feels another rush between her thighs at the erotic look he has. Wasting no time, she pulls the band of his briefs down, and licks him from base to tip, tasting the salty precum before engulfing him. Her tummy rolled like a belly-dancer’s as she drifted up and down his shaft. She felt him massage her deep within, throbbing against her inner flesh. She clamped down on his cock absorbing his warmth and desire. The minivan rocked and shook in the alley as if some wild beast were trying to break out from it. Inside, the temperature spiked covering the heated couple in a sheen of sweat. Dampened, foggy windows were streaked with finger, hand, and foot marks as they jockeyed for position. Neither. I usually felt pretty good on those days. I may have even been able to ignore my need to jack off temporarily whenever I woke up wet.The mystery drove me a little crazy. I'd avoid drinking before bed, just in case it was a bladder issue. I'd freak out and wear an extra pair of boxers to bed to try and soak up the excess wetness. There was no rhyme or reason to it. Once or twice a week, sometimes more, sometimes less, I'd wake up with the front of my boxers soaking wet. The immense feeling of.