15pm?"I left that bookshop feeling slightly heady. His final use of 'date' seemed a confirmation that my bookseller had designs. Who was I to deter hi...? I felt a divine wetness seeping from my slit, wetting my thighs, as I walked home.~ ~ ~ ~ ~For my first assignation with quiet, bookish Tony, I'd decided that I should dress 'on the cusp', somewhere between an out-an-out slutty harlot (like that bitch who'd seduced my Dad) and some demure mid-American Vestal Virgin, who has Virgil's Aenead for. Aahh fuck; even the touch of the soft cotton sheet to the nipples, hurts. The boy moves on his bed a bit abrupt and it is not for none other reason but to wake me up behind him; his palm runs over his fuzzy chest, not a jungle but just enough hair to my liking. He caresses his boyish stomach and leaving it up to me for more; just brushes his full hard extension imagining that I was doing it for him. A bit disappointed that I was not taking him; he pushes his leg in the silky soft cotton. More

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