I like to think of it as selective promiscuity. None of the crowd I hung with were part of the Latino or black culture or even hip hop. We were rich s...oners. The Bay Area jammers and Dead remnants were it for us. That was a constant until I graduated from high school and my parents picked up the tab for Stanford. I still kept my Bay Area music affections but the drugs seemed to drop off except for an occasional pot bowl. The demands of Stanford were just too stringent. The sex also dropped off.. Made one puzzle, what was the point in getting dressed in ones most expensive clothes for a gathering where sadness prevents anything you could possibly wear from looking good, and the guest of honor really couldn't care less what you wear. But tradition was as it was and so even at this most untraditional funeral, some things were irrepressible.After they had exchanged heartfelt sorrows and sympathetic well wishes the guests then proceeded to the casket to take one last look at a face they had. It was as though she wasn't even aware of his fingers now in contact with each breast.I couldn't help thinking that he had most probably done this to her many times before, and possibly he had done more than this. With his fingers now inside each cup, he proceeded to lift her bra higher. I could tell that he was going to have some trouble to do this, either her bra was too tight, or her breasts were too big. As he lifted, I saw both breasts being lifted higher instead of the garment slipping. .. Relief."I'd heard noises from her room a few times, but never considered she was masturbating, especially with me in mind.I felt her hand drop from my chest and trail down my stomach, stopping at the waistband of my shorts for a moment, and then slide over the bulge. I moaned as her hand ran over my cock, unable to stop myself, and watched her eyes widen as she felt it's size. I leaned my face down to hers and kissed her, putting my hands on her ass, and pulled her tight to me."If you are.