His fingers move deeper in my slit, that now tremors and drools for his touch… For more of his touch. As quickly as his fingers slipped into me they...are withdrawn. ‘Pleeease* I moan, ‘don’t stop, I need your touch’ His now juice wetted hand slips around my trembling hand once again and he leads me silently to the large bed that faces the window. Never releasing my hand, he pulls back the comforter and there revealed is a set of black satin sheets strewn with the most perfect white rose petals.. Carl, a delicatealmost dainty boy, was sixteen but looked about ten. He was small withthick, dark, wavy hair he kept fairly long. It made him look girlish buthe wasn't, at the same time he wasn't exactly macho either. From hisflawless almost porcelain complexion, it was also obvious the pubertyfairy hadn't yet visited and his doting mother kept reassuring him thatit would and she was sure he'd grow taller than his current five feetand would fill out as well. He wasn't so convinced, if he'd. More

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