What should have been a pleasurable stroll was turned into a battle against the elements as she makes it to the awning covering the door. She looks up...and takes a hold of the bronze knocker with chilled, shaking fingers. She slams the knocker against the door three times, crashes barely heard above the booming of thunder above.No answer.She goes to knock again when the door swings inward with a hiss of wind. She looks up and sees him.He holds the door open with one hand, his other holding up. Can I let go now, I asked in mock dissatisfaction, but deep down I liked holding him, and my long fingers were kneading his shaft as if I were practising on my recorder, to the tune of the Grand old Duke of York. When mum said No, my heart skipped a beat, in fact it was thumping hard inside my chest, and I think Mum knew that. Undo your cord and let your pant fall down Peter. Peter did as mum suggested, and there was my hidden hand holding my b*****r, my gentle loving squeezes now exposed and. More

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