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It was hard and standing straight as an arrow for her, and when her hand closed around it, I moaned with pleasure. I let her play with it for a minute, and then reached out to touch her pussy, and she shyly spread her legs apart so I could reach it. We were sitting side by side, but sort of facing each other, her legs pointed one way and mine the other, so we could reach each other easily. I could see from her face that she liked what I was doing to her pussy, just the way Maggie had taught me to touch and play with hers.Christy said, “In the magazine, they’re kissing and stuff. You wanna do that stuff too?”I nodded and leaned forward to kiss her, and her closed lips pressed against mine for a second. Again, Maggie’s instruction came to the rescue.“Do you know what ‘French kissing’ is?” I asked.“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t know how to do it. Isn’t it something like just rubbing your lips together for a long time?”“No,” I told her, “it’s when you open your mouth and let our tongues. .. Well, the next thing I knew was that Candy's Mumsy was slapping me really, really hard across both cheeks, and my head was spinning at 78 rpm, and my heart was racing at 180 bpm, and behind Candy's Mumsy was Zain Love asking whether I was going to be alright, and whenever Zain Love's mouth moved I heard Candy's voice in my fuzzy-wuzzy head. Which was more weirdo than all the episodes of Twin Peaks ever. And then I decided I must be dreaming because barely concealed beneath the lapels of his peach-pink suit jacket I saw that Zain Love had breasticules just like me, and not any old breasticules but a pair of perky, pokie, jiggly, drool-worthy, teen-angel, breasticules of bountifulness. If all the organisms weren't busy hiding in some other teen-angel's tight, soft, smooth, welcoming, cunny of pleasuring I'd have had at least a dozen of them right there and then, but instead I had to make do with dribbling and drooling and slathering at the exposed fleshiness and engorged nublets. As.
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