”Jim came back with a cute paint pony named Brutus (Idon’t know where he gets these names, but I will haveto ask him next time) and brough... him over to me. Ibegan to love him up, stroking his mane and scratchinghis head. I slowly worked my way down and made contactwith his cock and balls. Since this was all new to himI took my time as to not frighten my newest lover. Within minutes his cock began to drop and I continuedstroking his member. He was not quite as large asDromano maybe. . Buddy! Wake up, it’s the last stop.”I opened my eyes to an elderly black man in a train conductor’s uniform tell me we were at Manhattan Beach and it took me moment to realize we were no longer in the eighteenth century.The sharp odor of cleaning bleach and faint hint of urine tickled my sensitive nostrils and I looked up at the older gentleman with what I was certain was the uncertainty of a person not quite sure of how he had arrived at the end of the line and feeling a good five or six. Sounds like something from Charles Dickens but it was true. Robert and Martin (here after called Rob and Marty) had been the tightest of close friends since they meet at college. Both were big football heroes at their alma mater (a big SEC school that shall remain nameless) and just barely missed getting a National Championship. Rob was a Heisman nominated quarterback in his junior year before he tore his knee up for good at the start of his senior year. Marty broke every receiving record for. "This is Becca. I'm the cousin of your neighbor. I got your number from my aunt." It took me a second to realize who it was. So the older girl with my neighbor was her cousin. My mom looked over, "Who is it sweetie?" It's the cousin of the girl next door. Her name is Becca. Not sure why she's texting me though." "Oh," is all my mom said, then she laid down and put her head down on my leg near my crotch. I guess this was a compromise to a cuddle. I was able to carefully type back a reply with my.