I guess you're right."I felt bad when I saw him pouting. "Maybe, maybe not. Magic is kindatricky sometimes."His pout turned into half a smile. "That's...true." So how'd the story go?" Well, nobody can tell a story like Mrs. Fritter, so I ain't gonna trytelling it like she does. Basically, she told me a story about a boywho was swinging on this swing set on the day after Halloween. Shegave some name to that day, but I forget what it was now. Anyways,what happened is he'd kept on going higher and. And as she goes back to close the suitcase now, it is like he knows her so well already, and all that she needs. Tucked in the top of the suitcase are the boxer shorts he wore to dinner last night. Unwashed, with a little bit of cum on them. She holds them to her nose and breathes in deeply. Then not wanting to ‘use up the scent’ yet she takes them and places them under her pillow to enjoy when she goes to sleep tonight.She goes downstairs and, in the kitchen, pours herself a glass of. More

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