And he put his hands to my jeans and put his hands backwards into my pockets and felt my groin and I groaned a bit, and demured a bit and was shy and ...shamed, and he said, hey, don’t worry, it’s okay, and his body said it, and his eyes and I wanted to taste the freshness of him and the brightness of them. Once when I was young, there was someone, one of my mother’s friends, who forced me on a hunting expedition, which I cried about, but was sent anyway. I remember the eyes of the animal he. She turned her upper body toward me arched her back to thrust her breasts outward. I removed my shirt and tie, grabbed the champagne bottle, and crawled into bed beside her. I pulled the covers over our legs and stretched out, resting my head on the pillows she had fluffed for me, with my mouth level with her nipples. I kissed them as I felt her hand reach for my balls. We spent several worldess minutes like that, simply exchanging affection, soft kisses, tender caresses, letting love wash over. More

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