There was a slight prickling sensation behind the nipple as shestarted to suckle. My mouth gently made an 'O'.Simone kept sucking for what seemed like...an age, then suddenly sheunlatched. "Ooh, that wasn't what I expected," she said. Simone spoke inmy male voice, of course, but there was something in the rhythm that wasdefinitely hers rather than mine. "I thought that would taste more milky." How so?" I asked, brows knitted."I dunno, more creamy. Yours has no taste to it."I laughed, and could. She was there before I started training but had taken a break, and in that time I caught up to her in rank. At this point we were about to take our brown belt test together. The brown belt was a very physical test in my dojo. Our Sensei was a traditional martial artist who had trained overseas during the Vietnam War. And as I mentioned in an earlier story, he was training us to fight, not to win little plastic trophies. The last brown belt test was bad. One of the biker guys we trained with had. More

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