“Your girls?” I asked with a laugh.“What’s so funny? Don’t you have a name for your penis?”“No.”“I’ll figure one out for you. Pass...the soap, please.”Over breakfast, I mentioned, “Did I tell you the Ellen show called Peter asking if you’d be a guest?”“Really? Why?” she asked, stuffing her face with scrambled eggs.Smiling at her innocence, I told her, “Because of your song.”“Oh.” A moment later, she said, “I don’t think I want to be on television. I’d be too nervous.”“I think you should do. Feeling bolder, I get onto the bed on my knees. The extra weight turns her face completely towards me. Leaning over her, sideways across the bed, I support my weight on one hand, and touch her chin gently with the other. Just enough to part her lips. I lean in and feel the tip of my cock graze against her lips and then her tongue. My heart is beating so fast and loud I can barely hear myself think. I cautiously move my hips back and forth, but her mouth is too loose. There’s no real contact. More

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