Debbie gave me back my book and went up stairs to shower and said here go ahead and watch some TV if you want till I get out. Then I could take mine. ...hen she came back she was wearing a bath robe and when she bent over to pick up the plate of cookies off of the coffee table she looked like she wasn’t wearing anything under it that I could tell that was the most skin I had ever seen of a real girl not a drawing and I really didn’t see anything but her thigh and cleavage. As she stood up I. I touch myself but it is another hand that touches me in the dark. Sliding smoothly along velvet flesh, and gripping firmly as if mimicking the walls of her inner wetness. She touches herself but it is my hand that feels her inner wetness, and it is my hand that scoops up her liquids and brings them by fingertips to my lips, as I taste her nectar. As I taste your nectar. And inhale and remember that scent of a long time ago. It is dark. I am alone. A continent away. But as I touch myself I am. More

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