’ he smiled playfully.I laughed a little, ‘That’s cool, I won’t tell.’ My eyes found there way to his crotch. I could see no buldge or anyth...ng, just dark blue short shorts. He noticed, and placed his hand over the front of his shorts, ‘what?’ he asked, a little embarrassed. ‘Its just that I can’t see a buldge. If I was wearing shorts like that, my pice would be falling out,’ I said. He looked at me, and smiled, ‘Well, the thong puts a lot of pressure on you, it keeps you tucked in good. Do you. ” At least, Jenny was working hard, she said.One day at lunch, sitting back in her chair, she put the open book face down on the table with an exasperated gesture and said, “I had no idea this was going to be so much work. Cripes, what do I know about the origins of eroticism in literature?”Picking up a piece of lettuce and a wedge of Mandarin orange with my fingers, I took a nibble and said, “Well, there are only so many themes in human erotic thought ... and they’ve been writing dirty stories. “I'm, uh...John Smith.” I was thinking clearly enough to give her a false name. I have no idea why I felt I needed to give her a name that wasn't the one I pitched under. The papers were as trashy and vile as they are today, but I wasn't important enough for any of them to care how I'd spent my evening. She had hair that shined like gold when the gas light hit it just right. It fell to just past her shoulders, and matched the beautiful patch between her legs. I leaned forward and kissed her. After several more seconds of this, you ease up, instincts telling you that she is nearing the end of her orgasm and that further stimulation might might be too much right then. Her thighs relax, her legs spread open, and you pull out but keep your face at her entrance. Your tongue comes back into your mouth and, with it, all of her. You can taste her, smell her, so deeply. You take a moment to swirl and swish her thick cream around in your mouth, letting it coat your tongue, teeth, gums,.