John Thomas? I thought we were talking about you.” She did look confused.“It’s just a name for my ... um ... manhood.”She laughed. “You call...him Mr. John Thomas?”“It’s a traditional name,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster.“I think it’s time I got to meet Mr. John Thomas,” she said.It is difficult for me to describe what it was like, sitting there on the couch, having this conversation with a beautiful young woman dressed only in panties that invited me to lick her pussy. You could. “Your place or mine tonight?”“Mine. I’ll pick up something to cook on my way back.”“Wine?”“Get one of each, please. I’ll see what’s looking good at the grocery before I decide.”She cooked us a great pasta dish, with just a little bit of garlic, sliced roasted red bell peppers and chopped black olives; flakes of tuna steak sprinkled over the top. A bottle of Pinot Noir worked very well; after complimenting Mel for the third time, I told her I was SO enjoying good conversation and being able to. More

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