It wasincredible, some woman, and I had absolutely no idea who, was screwing me.My mind raced with the possibilities. My cock throbbed with the sensua... stimulationof the anonymous body sliding slowly up and down its length. There was no soundexcept the occasional, characteristic, wet sound of sex. Now I thought I realisedwhat Helen had meant - this would not have been anything like as exciting ifI'd known the identity of the lady who was screwing me; her very anonymityassured an added frisson,. I could only imagine what it would be like, how she would be dressed, about what we would talk.I hoped she would have a similar education because I felt it was not normal and the average young adult surely does not know how be a « true gentleman »In my dreams, the first woman of my age I meet smells extremely good, so much I cannot hold back myself and get closer from her and smell her perfume directly on her neck.She giggles and protests about my lack of education, but I can feel she does not. More

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