She is perfect, in every way in which I personally define perfection. She’s so perfect. Can someone so exactly mirroring my fantasies be real? She s...ems real and not real at the same time. Let's back up and start from the beginning. I’ll tell you about my first time with her, the first of many. I was shopping in some generic department store at the mall, surrounded by fluorescent lights, sagging shelves of mid-priced merchandise, tired salesladies, smudged glass counters and all the other. It was hard and much larger than the daddies on the TV. I leaned down and stuck my tongue out, remembering how the lady on the show had done, and licked the tip. He froze as did I; I repeated this a few times each waiting an interval of at least two seconds before doing it again. He settled back into a relaxing position and I opened my little mouth as wide as I could. He was thicker than my mouth could open but I was determined to try. I slowly placed my lips against the tip and slid my mouth. ” It took me a moment to register that Rachel had actually said yes. When I finally understood, I said boldly, “Then, Rachel, take off my pants.” At the time I was wearing gym shorts, with boxers underneath. Rachel crawled across the bed like a cat toward me. I rested my head against my pillow, my legs spread out. My legs were shaking with excitement. Rachel inched forward until she was sitting on the bed right between my legs. She took the string on my shorts and undid it. Then she pulled my. ’ She stopped at the kerb. ‘I don’t even know your name. I’m Meagan. But you can call me ‘Meg.” She extended a slender hand. I took it and squeezed it lightly. It was cool and soft and my dick stirred in my pants. ‘I’m Two-Dogs-Fucking,’ I said gravely. ‘But you can call me ‘Two-Dogs.” What the hell. If she was a prude I might as well find out up front. She choked back laughter. ‘I get it. Names are private. But what do you really want me to call you?’ ‘Chief?’ I suggested. ‘Don’t be mean.’.