My parents always told me to make sure I had clean underwear on. So there. I put his briefs on and we both got our jeans and sandals on and sat for a ...inute making small talk before I said it was time to go. I told him if he wanted to hang out call. He told me the same thing and I left. While I drove home I kept thinking about Pauls red bush and his low hangers I rubbed my dick and got a rush because I was rubbing them in his undies. The same one where his dick and red bush had been. I thought. You quietly move into the room. ‘Stand and submit.’ you say. Quickly and silently she moves to the position. You move up behind her, your hands begin to explore her wonderfully curvaceous body. Your hands glide like feathers over her flesh, sending unimaginable sensations through her body. ‘Bring me the cuffs.’ The tone of your voice confuses her, as you seem slightly upset, she ponders what she may have done wrong. Quickly she moves to the nightstand and returns to you with the cuffs in her. “Either of you ever done a spit roast?” Bob looked confused, which was almost comical since he was still on the hands and knees position from fucking her. “I take it you’re not talking about barbecuing,” I replied. She laughed softly and shook her head. “No. It’s something I saw in an Atlanta porn shop Asshole took me to.” Asshole (capitalized) was her ex. There were assholes, then there was Asshole. I never heard her or Marsha refer to him by any other name, and they were in perfect. ‘Oh my god. What is wrong with me?’ I heard Betty’s voice echoing down the hallway. ‘Go!’ I jumped, and I spied her standing at the end of the hallway with her arms across her chest. ‘Gesh! Give a person a break, would ya?’ She pointed her finger at me. I walked quietly into the room, and I felt my heart stop. He looked like an angel. I stood by his bed, and I stared down at him sleeping. I felt my heart break as my eyes scanned over him. He looked like he had lost weight, and his hair was.