“Yeah. Allright. Thanks.” I felt at ease with her then, as a friend, as we had always been. “And thanks for being the mature one last night.” ... grinned.“The sober one, you mean.”“Yeah,” I laughed, “that too.” She smiled with me. Then raised an eyebrow.“Anything else?” she asked. And I figured it out.“And thanks for letting me lick your pussy! It was great!” “You are very welcome,” she said, and sat back. I lay back and we enjoyed the sun, and the coffee and the quiet. Then quietly, she added,. I understood this, but understanding it is a lot different than feeling it.After a week, they sent me home and boy was it good to be back home again. My own bed felt so much better that the hospital bed with those plastic sheets that made you hot and sweaty. The doctors and nurses told mama that she and my sisters would have to exercise me and gave us a lot of papers that explained what to do.I just lied there and took it like a man, well like a little boy actualy ... mainly because there was. More

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