“You did not ask nor did you have permission to cum. Do you know what that means?”“Yes Sir, I may not cum again until you command me to do so, n... amount of begging will matter.”“That’s right.” I know what this means, I’m going to be teased to the point of passing out before I get that command. What have I done. He starts by moving me over to the blanket and lays me down flat, spreads my legs wide. “I think we’re going to teach you a real lesson.” He starts to look around the room and then. (Maybe not as long-starved as the Cubbie fans on the Northside, but long enough.)We didn't feel sorry for the Pale Hose. We'd been waiting a long time, too! Now Paul Warren's club, for the first time in his five seasons as manager, was the American League Champion.We flew home that night and prepared to meet the winner of the Cardinals/Braves series, as soon as it was decided.We didn't have long to wait. The very next night, St. Louis knocked off Atlanta in their sixth game. The World Series. "Well, a promise is a promise," I said. Just then Osborn walked back to the table. "These two gentlemen convinced me that you had been serious. So I guess we are taking them back to our room." That suits me, can we stop by the convenience store and buy some more beer?" she asked."Absolutely," I assured her.The man in the convenience store was a typical clerk. He was someone I wanted to ask for his green card. I didn't, but it was hard not to be a smart ass. Osborn brought the beer up and I paid. You stroke my hair and rub my shoulder. It makes me feel good and I shift a little, not realising that me doing that is making you hard. I roll on to my back and look up at you. You smile at me and I smile back. I tell you that you are a good friend. You lean down and kiss me this time I don’t pull away and let you kiss me. I moan and lean up into your touch. It feels right. You moan and run your hand over my cotton covered breast. “Mmm….James…I want you…I need you…” I moan, feeling myself.