There Was

Kippie Chiquita and Lenora Block could have been twins, in a negative positive reversal kind of universe. Even though I didn’t meet Lenora for years after I first met Kippie.

One hot summer twilight as I was moping, or as a teen I identified it as hanging around, the park bench where I usually socialized. Alone or sometimes with friends at that age. As now, I did some of my best socializing on my own. It was the time of day when the public park had a shift change from younger children and their mothers, to sub tweens venturing out on their own, into the twilight of the teens.

Socializing.

Alone or in packs.

Across the park, through the playground jungle of slides, swings, and even the insidious teeter totter I spied a hint of yellow in motion. A fluid, hypnotic dancing motion of sorts. A very vibrant hint of yellow that moved through the park in my general direction. Almost like the last rays of sunshine of a day.

What began as a slight visual cue slowly blossomed into full tilt visual stimulus. What started as an object of yellow slowly revealed itself and morphed into a person. Not just any person, but a very lithe young woman. Prancing with pointed toes. Cantering with very light blonde curly permed hair bouncing about with an added spin or two for effect. I could barely make out the other person with her. Her accompaniment walked with that sulky directness that could only be identified as mopey.

Just like me. 

Unlike me, female.

Unlike Kippie, very nondescript and working very hard at staying that way.  

As Kippie danced her way onto my turf details began to take hold. She was wearing a very yellow and bright kind of pant suit halter top combo platter that clung tightly to her shapely legs, around her round behind, and a halter that flounced gingerly over her spare breasts. Clinging just enough to reveal the firm lusciousness which were the Telos of her tits without giving nary a clue to the fullness of those obscured delights. The halter top tied off around her slender neck with a simple hand tied bow that peeped out from under her flouncing blond bob.

Her skin was so white that she almost disappeared under the glare of her yellow jumpsuit giving her overall presence a glow as she flitted about her glum gray friend. This friend always seemed to accompany Kippie in our encounters to come, but she was so forgettable that I am unable to recall her having ever given her name. I can only refer to her as Not Lenora. Nope, indeed Lenora would not appear for quite a few years hence.

Once Kippie and company finished traversing the length of the park it only took moments for her to be chattering away gaily about this and that and the other thing in my ear. Sometimes roaming about my park bench, sometimes sitting either way to near, or way to far on the bench. She spoke of many things. Many things that sent my imagination reeling and put my heart racing. I would focus on her face which shimmered when she spoke. Her expressive eyes of cerulean blue twinkling as the sun set and the night cooled. Her lips had a dash of pink about them as did her cheeks. Either her natural coloring or the lightest touch of make -up were equally suspect. Who knew? Who cared? She spoke and I listened. She laughed and I smiled. She would rise up and again prance on the park path before me and I would follow her movements, not just with my eyes, but with my whole being.

All I recall is being totally enchanted by everything she said or did on that evening, yet unable to reasonably articulate or recount a thing she said because she communicated in a language that was only gilded with words. Her message to me was buried in the sub-carrier vibration that fill the space between all matter and glues all together despite the perceived void.

Her yellow halter hid from me the mysteries I sought. Her tight yellow pants, so shear as to allow her energy to breath in the summer heat while containing all the mystery my young mind could muster.  Her blond hair crowned and poised upon her delicate featured face as she shared unrevealed wisdom of all that I could ever wish to know.

Her familiar lurked.  Still afoot, though I knew not where. Nor cared. Kippie was this night. In the spotlight of the twilight she touched my cheek lightly. Her charge filled me with light, and she flitted on her merry way, all prance and canter and spin about her lumbering gray host as they left the park. My eyes followed, but I did not. I had not been invited to join on this night.

Kippie would own many a night that summer, but only if Kippie wanted to take possession of that time slot. I would find Kippie in the park at the strangest times. She would come out of nowhere. Almost seemed like she lived in the bushes. She claimed she went to the schools I went to, yet no one I knew knew her. She knew the names of many of my friends and teachers , yet none seemed to recall her. She seemed to know every nook and cranny of our neighborhood. It’s Folklore and rampant rumor of all the goings on in the neighborhood that made up my universe at this time were within her purview. I had no interest in the larger world. She shared my indifference of events abroad in the city other than our immediate location. My indifference inflated as my infatuation grew. I lived for our chance meetings in the park. I learned that the presence of Not Lenora was of no concern to me. She seemed to be there when Kippie wanted, and not when Kippie did not. I was starting to view my existence as such. Kippie. No Kippie . That was all the data I required.

I was beside myself whether lacking full Kippie Chiquita immersion or with her full intention.

It was my digital reality.

1= Kippie.

0= No Kippie.

Was this a healthy state of mind?

Highly unlikely.

Had I found my bliss?

Yes.

I recall spending hours making out on the park bench that summer. Her curvy bottom in her yellow pants wriggling on my lap while we french kissed. Our tongues danced a Tarantella as her yellow halter top loosened enough to tease me with glimpses of  forbidden pink nipple. Taut and needy.  Our tongues dared each other to submit. Our breath mingled. Or lips pressed. Teased. Introduced. Demurred. Interlocked. Coaxed. Cajoled each other into accepting our desires.

Then feasted.

Devoured each other.

Time passed.

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Can’t Stop

I can’t stop me

I filled you

Spent you

Played inside you

Smear around

Spread you

Licked you

Take a deep breath

Can’t leave you alone

I play

You resonate

You moisten

I’m encouraged

Engorged

You’re flowing

Cock in hand

We play

Teasing

Splitting

A parting

A push

An entry

An engulfing

We fuck

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ToBe or NotToBe

TMI Tuesday: May 14, 2019

TMI Tuesday is up! Get your creative juices going and tell all.

1. What is the rudest thing you have ever done?

Rude is in the eye of the beholder.

2. What do you like more being a leader or follower? Why?

Neither a leader nor a follower be.  Skip to your own lou

3. If you are single, what do you miss most about being a couple? If you are in a relationship, what do you miss most about being single?

As a single geezer I miss the sharing and the caring couples can have.

4. If you could hack into any computer whose computer would you hack?

No ones. I’m just not that curious. But once upon a time I did use a network sniffer on my home wi-fi router. I am both grateful and forever saddened by what I learned.

5. If you could shop for free at one store (brick ‘n’ mortar, not online), what store would it be?

Best Buy. That’s entertainment.

Bonus: What is the biggest favor a friend has done for you? Do you feel you must return the favor?

Biggest favor a friend has done for me was being my friend. I try to be a true friend as well when apropos.

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How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Time and Venue TBD

TMI Tuesday: May 7, 2019

May is Masturbation Month. Let’s first celebrate by playing this TMI Tuesday. Second, please go celebrate by giving yourself some glorious “self pleasure” aka go masturbate!

1. Can one masturbate too much?

Anything in excess can be a bad thing. How much is too much can be handled only by you.

2. Do you masturbate daily?

Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t. “The pursuit of foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds.” – Emmerson

3. Do you masturbate significantly more than you have sex with another person?
A. Yes
B. No

C. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don’t. If you are looking for a lifetime aggregate; life is too short to do the ciphering. “If you can’t be with the one you love. Love the one you’re with.” – Crosby Stills Nash & Young

 

4. Can you go one week without masturbating?
A. Yes

…and I have many times. But edging frequently while taking advantage of myself does make the heart grow fonder – me
B. No
C. Only if I could have sex at least every other day

 

5. Are you comfortable casually admitting to others that you masturbate?
A. Yes
B. Depends on Who I’m Talking To.

I have no compunction to bust that nut on every Tom, Dick, and Harriett I meet on the street. But if the conversation does reach out to that topic I will certainly take that unicorn by the horn and spew my rainbow of experience upon request.
C. No

 

6. Would you be comfortable performing a masturbation “show” in front of your lover?

 

A. Yes

Times and venue available upon request.
B. Maybe, Depends on the Personality of My Lover
C. No

7. Have you ever masturbated in a public place? Where? Why?
A. Yes
B. No

Nobody wants to see that sort of unsolicited performance when they are going about their business. But if you do…

Times and venue available upon request.

 

Bonus: Would you rather. . .
Never masturbate again?  OR
Have to masturbate five times a day, every day, forever?

Since I have other hobbies and interests besides philately I would say never again as long as it does not preclude me from receiving such intimate services and an occasional stamp licking. I would make time and situate myself accordingly to receive such delights.

May 28 is Wanker’s Day!

“Wank on you crazy diamonds” – Pink Floyd and me

————-

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

The Easter Bunnies Cumming

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It was a different time. It was a younger time. It was a cumming of age time. One might say cumming was on mine and Rene’s mind all the time. Sensitivities were different. Knowledge of many things were different and learned slowly, intimately, often with great effort and reticence often brought about by the shyness of youth and reservations of opening up to the ignorance we wallowed in.

 

The major characters in this moment of time were myself, Rene, a lovely though politically insensitive black and white rabbit fur jacket, and a big plush pink bunny suit. All hopped down memories bunny trail to fatefully meet smack dab in the middle of the cosmic basket of my life.

 

Rene loved that fur jacket. Her long straight blond hair framed her delicate features and came to rest pleasingly upon her accented fur covered shoulders. It soon became a favorite amorous prop of hers.  The jacket would end perfectly above her heart shaped derriere. Her slim waist and sometime incongruously bare midriff despite the weather’s necessitating a fur jacket were beside the point. Once we were snuggled in our bunny hutch she hopped about in tiny lace panties and furry bunny jacket. This tableau often had me bursting early and often. My own personal fears, though Rene would fulsomely claim otherwise, was way too early way too often. But that chapter of irrational youthful exuberance was drawing to a close as spring time approached.

 

Still memories lingered back to the Christmas morning when I gifted dear Rene with that bunny jacket. She actually squealed with delight at un-boxing this furry delight. She hugged it tight to her firm young bosom until her wintry robe fell to the floor and the jacket took over her short teddy nightie.

 

She found a full length mirror and preened to her heart’s content while I enjoyed the view with rising anticipatory erectus. Her long legs exaggerated by the hefty furry enrapture was an optical illusion to my roiling limbic system’s delight.

 

Soon her legs enwrapped me as I licked her quivering bunny snatch while my eyes peer over her blond fringed bunnies mound as she hugged my primitive gift of animal fur close her her pitter pattering heart. I could feel her heart thrumming through my tongue as It glided hippity hoppity through her flowery flowing furrows. But when I pierced her molten snatch I burst forth almost immediately in my heated lustful excitement.

 

Far from appearing disappointed, she covered me in sweet kisses and affections until it was time for us to make our holiday rounds.

 

As I drove to her parents house for our big Christmas dinner Rene was unusually snuggly next to me crowding my end of the long front bench seat of my big ol Bonneville. She felt warm and soft next to me as the big V-8 engines heat exchange kept the car interior toasty. Good thing because she worked my stick out of my holiday suit and played with my four on the floor intently and lovingly all over the river and through the woods.  By the time we pulled up to grandmother’s house her sweet blond head dropped to my lap and swallowed me whole forthwith.. Because of my highly charged state from her holiday drive handy work it just took a couple of bobs in her tasty mouth while I caressed her bunny fur covered back for me to cum copiously in her mouth. She swallowed me all up deftly leaving nary a drop on my holiday finery. As she reclined back resplendent in her fur she brought to mind Guinevere in her winter coach being delivered to King Arthur’s Court in the movie Camelot. She was every bit as fine as Julie Christie as she straightened her make up in her compact mirror. She smiled sweetly and asked slyly, “Ready for Mummy and Daddy?”

 

After the grilling from her family and their marked disapproval of me spending my money on such an extravagance of a fur jacket, bunny or not, we had a good meal , gift exchange, and libations. A good time was had by all.

 

Fatigued and on our way to my family’s Christmas Night light supper and gift exchange Rene was more subdued during that drive, but just as lovely. My parents being older than hers I think she felt more sexually repressed in their expectant presence as only more antiquated  generations can deliver.

 

So when we arrived at my place with bellies full and plum tuckered out from the day we fell into sweet dreams in each others arms with little more than a lick and a promise of future follies.

 

It was the next few months of cold winter snuggling that made me realize that the gift of animal pelts still cut deep in the thoroughly modern psyche of young woman of that time. Or at least it clearly hit Rene right smack dab in her libido.

 

To say the least, her interest in sex was altered. Frequency, variety in locations, positions, amazing feats of daring do, not to mention trying new things too. Was it the jacket? Was it the times? Was it her growth as a woman? I will never know. All I know is our sexual detente menu went from me cajoling, coaxing, and sometimes down right pleading; to her staking her claim as a full appetite sexually wanton being.

 

I was in heaven.

 

She would show up at my door at all times. The fur covering her usually scantily clad top with either hip hugger jeans  poised perfectly on her full womanly hips below. Sometime a peasant skirt with nothing else underneath was the temptation dujour. When weather started to warm the fur coat was only thing between the world and her sweet swelling protruding pink nippled breasts. Of what joy it was to unwrap her on those occasions.

 

Or I would come home to find her curled up on the couch wearing only brief black panties, fur jacket open enough to tease the swell and curve of her champagne glass sized boobs. We would spend hours petting, fondling, fingering, kissing, and  licking each other. Sadly even with all this action, the excitement of my newly unbridled nymph, when I entered her what little control I had once had was gone and I would cum buckets full of rich creamy jizz deep inside my beloved. She was always discreet about her orgasms, but now they were shivers at best from my penetrating efforts. Still she seemed satisfied from our oral and sleight of hand communions.

 

Of course the more I tried to not cum  it seemed the briefer our copulation encores became. Still every chance she would service me anywhere with her sweet rose bud mouth and I would slather adoration between her sweet gapped thighs at every opportunity.

 

Winter turned to spring. I was out killing time at second hand shops working on my fashion sense and searching for items that would fuel Rene’s new found delight in playing dress up fuck fuck games.

 

There it was.

 

A big pink faux fur bunny suit. Resplendent with floppy ears. Buck teeth. A fluffy white tail and a very thoughtful back trap door and discreet front button fly. I knew what I had to do. Being ever cautious about garments from second hand shops my first stop was a dry cleaner. After all the inner tag of the Bugs suit said dry clean only and the little woman behind the counter did not bat an eye when I presented her with her task at hand. Clearly she had stranger ducks on her counter than this pink bunny suit. It would be ready the Thursday before Easter. Perfect.

 

Thursday after work I made the bunny stop at the dry cleaners and went straight home. Rene was coming over per our plans, but I was not sure exactly when. All I had to do was strip down , shower, bunny up and wait. I was in my favorite chair waiting when I heard her key in the door. When she opened the door she looked like she had just stepped out of the iconic scene from “Pretty Woman” Knee high heeled black boots, booty short black mini skirt, topped off with her black and white rabbit fur jacket. For some reason she had also curled her hair into big hair territory. This was not your mama’s Rene from down the block. She was a full tilt fantasy. I could see her pause for a moment. At first she seemed unsure about being presented with a big pink bunny sitting where she expected to see me. I was not about to wait around for introductions. I stood and my stiff steely cock popped right out of the open button fly of bunny-land. With a glance she recognized me.

 

“Well hello Easter Bunny.”

 

As I made my approach her hand instinctively reached for the matter bobbing between us. I deftly sidestepped and smoothed her bunny fur cover shoulders and led her to our table. My hands slid between her open jacket front and smoothed her sides with just a glancing caress of her breasts as I took her by her hips and bent her over the table. A brief journey up her mini skirt found her panties which I pulled down too her ankles in one fell swoop. I pried the filly pantie from one booted ankle but purposely left it loitering around her other ankle for aesthetic effect. With her skirt up over her perfect heart shaped behind I ran my hands over the soft luscious bunny fur on her back as I entering her deep with nary a how do ya do. She was molten, viscous, and very ready. My hands moved under her coat know and found her delicious erect nipples while I cupped her perfectly formed tits in my greedy bunny gloved hand. I think the glove fabric rubbing her tender tits made her gasps and I felt an initial pleasure spasm around my still fully immersed cock. Her snatch was needy and clutching as I pulled out. Next thrust gave way gradually as if her cunt was trying to feel every slick throbbing measure of my intrusion deep down into her sweet swale swatch of heaven. Her distended clitoris caressed my balls each time I paused my plunge deep inside and stirred her steamy rabbit hole. Being inside Rene was glorious and I would dawdle deep with in her, stirring my prick inside as to whip her into a frothy frenzy. At first I felt her fingers playing with her clit from below. Then as I stirred the pot some more I felt them cradle my balls as they worked with her furrows. So focused was I on her moans and quivering machinations below I had lost all track of the fine furious fucking we were doing. I was in the moment. I was in Rene and all other matters dissipated. Then she came like never before. Soaking me, the table and the bunny suit. Never had she made such a ruckus while we humped.

 

I still had yet to say a word, but I know my moans were in harmony with hers. She took me by my still hard and unspent cock and led me to the bed. She fell on her back, the coat was open her blouse was unbuttoned, by which I mean all the buttons were now gone in my frenzied frolic, revealing to my eyes those perfect breasts and nipples to be fondled. This time with visual guidance more precision was achieved. She wailed as her feet found my shoulders with the white pantie flying from one leg as a sign of complete surrender.  I stumbled in deep from above. She came again leaving her eyes glassy. She began talking incoherent bunny filth about filling her basket, tweaking her pink jelly beans harder, make my peeps go squish, and ram that big white chocolate bunny into me all the way to its big clumsy feet.

 

“Oh thank you Easter Bunny!” she moaned to which we parroted our favorite Cadbury eggs commercial with a hearty ”Buck Buck.”

 

Laughing we came again. We collapsed on the bed. She ripped my bunny head off and covered me in deep passionate kisses for the rest of that weekend. When we weren’t fucking like rabbits of course.  

 

Why hiding under a big pink bunny suit would help me out of my premature dilemma is another one of life’s many mysteries. Thank you Easter Bunny indeed.

 

First drafts may not be the best drafts but they sure are fun. P.S.

My First Stud

Sindy’s eyes caught me first. But as we conversed I was riveted by the little metal ball in the midst of her clever and enticing tongue. Her body; butt, breasts, legs, and taut tummy all became secondary. Yes she was beautiful, sassy, and bold.  But that glistening silver orb sparkled in my minds eye.

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I flashed back to my first beloved and the intimidating full metal rubber banded grill work of the time. The memory and feel of cold steel after she had slurped a Slurpee and then would give me a sound and righteous slurping made me shiver with delight. The impending danger as the unforgiving teeth of my zipper would poise dangerously close to my hardened but not indestructible cock as it made its way betwixt her unskilled mouth full orthodontic braces. But those initial scars healed and her mouth became exquisite and masterful over the years.

No learning curve was required upon my first and only encounter with Sindy’s tongue pole on my usually wizened but now extraordinarily rejuvenated and stiff pole. She had me gasping as her tongue bar slid up the underside of my erection to the tender spot just below the pinnacle of sweet ecstasy which burst all over my first stud.

Doors Closed and Doors Opened

Rene:

Our first Christmas together. I wanted everything perfect. Parents gone for a tropical Christmas cruise. But not before we all put up the family Christmas tree in our front room. I’m home from University on winter break so we spent the last night before their departure trimming the tree with all my favorite ornaments and bubble lights.

It’s Christmas Eve and he is coming over. Haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving.

Every week we are apart I ached. I fretted too. He has a new career. He is making money. No longer the broke student I met at the roller rink last summer. I was eighteen, fresh outta high school in skimpy shorts and even skimpier halter top. Skating tall on my high white lace up roller skates. I wasn’t sure if it was the skating rinks cranked up air conditioning, or how cool he looked in his tight black T-shirt and jeans, but my nipples were hard pressed against the halters thin fabric when I accidentally on purpose rolled into him on the floor. He was not a great skater and we nearly went down there in the middle of the rink, rather than later that night when I went down on him in his parked car.

The rest of that summer was a blur, and off I went to University. So instead of experiencing all the strange new boys at school, I lay aching, touching, dreaming, and fingering myself to the tune of my man back home.

His new job kept him busy with all those ambitious power suited downtown advertising women. Between his schedule and the dorm housing situation of my first year away at school we were only able to share a few furious weekend fucks in the college town’s cheap roadside motel.

But for the next four days we have my family home. Familiar, expansive, clean, and all ours. I plan to fuck him in every bed in the place. From my Daddy’s little princess canopy bed to the King Size luxury mattress that my parents sexlessly slumber upon. We are going to give every surface in this house whatfore this Yuletide season.

But first I plan on fucking him under this tree. I have the Santa hat, the peppermint striped thigh high stockings. The come fuck me high heels and I am wrapped in a festive snuggly silky red robe over nothing but my freshly showered and scented self.

The doorbell rings and I let him in.  To begin this night his “I am getting laid” grin floats up from between my sopping thighs.  The grin raises to tend to my very erect and screaming for attention nipples. They are bursting from his cavalier Cheshire Cat nibble and lick. Then his grin is under me as the enormous knob on the end of his cock splits me wide while I ride him in full view my family’s hearth hung stockings. The grin goes as he comes.

Debbie:

It’s been a year of his bullshit. I left a good job in the hope of removing the impediment of being co-workers stopping this “relationship” from moving forward.

Ha!

Relationship?

Him showing up in the wee hours of the morning, reeking of booze, and me taking him into my bed, with stops on the floor, and the couch, and the kitchen table for him to fuck me in whatever twisted way his devious delicious mind thought up at the saloon while drinking with….clients.

Like hell.

Re-lay-shun-ship in-deed.

So here I am on yet another Christmas night after spending it with my mom, and sisters, and sisters boy friends, and sisters husbands, and enduring their questions, and what ifs, and what abouts, and how about so and so. Or I have the nicest guy at work…. Blah. Blah Blah.

“Oh, thanks all. But tonight I have a man coming over who is going to fuck me blue. I will be screaming his name during streaming, reaming, rippling orgasm after orgasm.  By 9 pm tonight this not so nice guy will be licking me clean and starting over again.”

Why?

Because he can.

Because I let him.

Because…

He knocks. Before you can say Merry Christmas I am on my knees before him. My mouth accommodating that large luscious knob his dick works valiantly to uphold and know it will be mine again and again. Where I want it.  How long I want it. Deep into me. Deep into this Christmas Fuckfest of a Night.

I’ll confront him in the morning.

Moving On:

There I was kneeling between Toni’s legs. Her ass was perched nicely on the top of my thighs giving me a panoramic view of her splayed moist offering. My hands cradled her rump. Guided it where I wanted her cunt to go. She purred below. My balls nuzzled her puffy and slippery pussy fronds. Spreading her ever so poignantly with precision ball sack placement.  Lifting her ass in my hands brought my cock to perch pleasingly on the hairy chestnut patch which crowned her prominent mound. Her scent wafted to my nose enticing me.

A moment of indecision arose.

I did not know if I wanted to admire her, eat her, or fuck her. Her sumptuous spread confronted me quizzically as her buns resided in the palms of my hands. Her tummy was soft and alabaster, Her great breasts with barely defined and irregularly shaped large pink patch areolas lay proudly displayed while creeping up towards her chin. The result of gravity from the slope created by her butt’s position now raised in my hands over my kneeling thighs. Big light brown curled hair was spread all over the mattress framing her soft blue eyed features.

She had spent the Christmas party shimmying these hips, rubbing those tits, batting those big pretty blue eyes at everybody she thought would help advance her career goals for me. To raise our soon to be community property value.  At the same time she was marking her territory for every female coworker who had, or she perceived ever had, or entertained the thought of having me. Only through extreme feminine poise and cunning did she keep herself from falling completely out of that little black party dress through the night. Now that I had relieved her of that and her little black holiday brassiere and lacy color coordinated panties, I could see she had powdered herself profusely and made allowances for the generous cleavage she had displayed for all my male and female coworkers at the company Christmas party. Face, neck, shoulders and tits were made up for the festivities. The shocking red lipstick was outstanding on professionally blushed cheeks and the perfect application of foundation. Brows and lids were highlighted to set off her azure eyes.

Decision made, I moved her calves onto my shoulders and bowed in reverence for the feast I was about to partake of.

I wonder if she will taste different now that I know she is with child?

Oh What Child Is This