She's wearing these jean-short things that have the braces kinda like a "farmer girl" meets "Coal Chamber's bassist" kinda look. I slip the braces off...and slide my hand behind her back. I unhook her bra and I see her tits drop outwards, thinking "woah!" and without any hesitation I begin with a kinky playful bite on her tit as I squeeze the other one. She tilts her head back in ecstasy (I'm her first, I can tell) I begin licking her tits and for someone who's barely legal hell! they're pretty. He was now certain that the certification course for spacewalks that he received at the Leonides complex thoroughly sucked, it left out huge chunks of important information and several basic skills. He was praying the entire trip that he didn't shit in his pants.At the same time, the only question that kept running through his head during his entire journey was "Why do these people always have to do things the hard way?" He figured he would be waiting a long, long time for that answer.The pants. It tasted disgusting. He swallowed briefly but couldn't do more.He felt ashamed as he hustled to the bathroom, spitting into the sink. He looked in the mirror and wondered what he had done. He felt terrible, but somehow it seemed okay, like at least he tried. He turned off the lights and hopped into bed. His mind would not stop. Thank God it was Friday and he wouldn't have to work. He got up again and retrieved his phone.He read the texts again and got hard.Bryan slept fitfully. His wife. Giggling and tipsy, Phyllis eagerly agreed. They settled into the bag and got comfortable resting their heads on their arms facing each other. Their conversation continued but soon toned down to inaudible whispers. Dot, idly stroked Phyllis with her free hand then pulled the bag over them and continued the stroking underneath. The whispering stopped. The movement in the sleeping bag did not. Frank and I lit up a joint and kept an eye on the sleeping bag. I saw Frank, sitting across the fire.