"Would you mind showing me what you have?" Are the gloves for you, Sir, or are they for someone else?" she asked."No, they're not for me. They're for ... young boy in my neighborhood who lives near me. He looks to be about 10 years old I think," the old man added.The next morning the old man stopped the boy as he was walking past his house on his way to school."Young fellow," the old man said, with a good-natured chuckle, "It's colder than a stepmother's kiss out here this morning, isn't it?" Yes. You take advantage of the situation and tackle me, rolling me over onto my back and kissing me again. This time the kisses trail off, across my cheeks and down my neck. I'm soon left helpless, unable to kiss you or touch you well as you move downward, out of my reach. The desire to enjoy the feel of your mouth and hands on my breasts (my stomach, my thighs... ) wars with the need to be able to reciprocate. I let you win for a while, grasping at pillows instead as your steady downward trek comes. More

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