Before too long my hands start roaming over your body, starting up high stroking your chest, brushing a nipple slight but purposeful. As my hands work...their way down to your thighs, I find that you are hard as a rock. When my hand brushes against your cock it kinda startled me so I kinda jerked it away. You take my hand and gently but firmly press it back on to your manhood. Now as we kiss I'm gently stroking you, it feels so foreign to have a cock in my hand that isn't my own, and it's. He grinned at his nephew. “I’m telling you, she likes you. Take a shot. Forget about work.” Karen was halfway to the counter when he called her. “You have syrup?” he said, staring at her. She wondered why she forgot to bring the syrup, thinking it wasn’t like her to forget. What was I thinking? Karen was eighteen, almost nineteen, with big liquid brown eyes and blond hair like the color of new bronze. She was five-seven, nicely shaped, moderate bosoms. She had gone steady with a tattoo artist. More

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