At her door, I paused.Knocked.Waited.No reply. Where was she?I fumbled the key. Should I go in? Was it right? Ethical? Was she expecting me the other ...ide?Curiosity won. I brought my shaking hand to the lock and, with a cursory glance left and right, slid the key home and turned the latch.Pushing the door open revealed a room not dissimilar to the one in which I was staying. Terracotta tiled flooring. Bed along one wall opposite a mirrored dresser, upon which a small flat-screen TV sat. ”“We’ll consider this a grand experiment.”Saturday, August 14, 2010.Jake sat in front of a nice but unassuming home in a stately neighborhood near the Tulane campus. Jake could sense his grandmother inside. His grandfather was also there. No one else was home.Leanne was at the wheel of their rental car. They had slept in and then had a leisurely brunch at their bed and breakfast in the Garden District before driving over to his grandmother’s.Jake hoped he could pull this off without hurting. She pulls down her leggings and I run my hands down her legs. She’s already wet I get on my knees and lick her a few times eliciting a few moans from her. She then puts one foot on the chair spreading her pussy wide open. My cock is rock hard with the skin rolled down. I position it at the entrance. I want this so bad it hurts. I push forward …. Nothing happens, my cock slides down her pussy lips. I try again and again but I just can’t penetrate her. “Come on Lacey where is your hole?” I ask.. The slick blackness of the bitumen looked treacherous in the dark, but they had to make it. The police weren’t far behind. Here goes. He tightened his grip on the empty bottle in his hand. ‘One….two….three!’ He threw the empty bottle twenty metres down the alley and high into the air. He pulled The Package to his feet by the collar and turned and ran in the other direction. As fast as he could. The bottle smashed as it hit the bitumen. Run. Fast. Thirty meters to go. No gunfire. Yet. Twenty.