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‘This here is Richard Dickson, though we all call him Dick,’ Kit said by way of introduction and told him my name and I shook his hand to find it quite strong. ‘Where’s Pauline?’ he asked Dick who then looked at his watch. ‘Should be home by now. The shift’s finished,’ he answered. ‘Pauline is a State Registered Nurse,’ Kit explained to me. ‘Dick hasn’t long been back from the States. He stars in quite a few pornographic films they make there as well as doing tours of night clubs and especially hen parties. He’s known as Dick “The Donkey” Dickson, and believe me, he’s hung like one too. Any chance of Colin seeing and getting a taste?’ he asked Dick. ‘Why not,’ he said as he smiled at me with his blue eyes looking me over rather speculatively. ‘Could he handle it?’ ‘Well there’s only one way to find out.’ I felt like I was being bartered but I’d never see a man hung like he’d said, so I didn’t say anything and gave a nod to the question in Kit’s eyes. ‘Then let’s drink this up. She tasted stronger, I pushed my tongue and face into the soft, wetness. “Oh God, Rick! That feels so good! Tongue fuck my cunt!” she said. It came out as a request, but the hand on my head, pulling me closer felt like a command. A command I was perfectly wiling to follow. Her hips rolled, smearing her essence all over my face. My tongue drilled in and out, lapping the juices that seeped from within, covering her with doglike kisses as she used my face for her personal gratification. I wrapped my arms around her thighs as she ground herself against me, pushing the bridge of my nose up against the hood of her clit. It seemed to make her grind harder, moan louder. I shifted my face a bit, capturing the the flaps of her hood between my lips.Sucking gently on the flavorful flesh, I feathered my tongue against the bottom of it. “Yes! Yes! That’s it! That’s it Suck my clit! Oh, fuck Yes!” she babbled, fondling one of her breasts with one hand and holding my head with the other. I could.
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I’d spend weekends at his house and he’d teach me how to cast a fly into a gallon can from 75 feet. I could never match his ability, though.’ I should have been aware something was up, but the recent funeral dulled my radar. It was good to relive fond memories of my time with Uncle Jessie and Aunt Mary. I talked too much. In the morning I was packing to return to University when the phone rang. ‘Matt Jensen?’ a female voice spoke. ‘Yes. To whom and I speaking?’ ‘I’m Angie Jordon. You remember me. We used to go to school together.’ ‘Okay. In our senior class, you sat across from me in English Lit.’ ‘Yeah, that’s me. Anyway, I’m wondering if you’d like to go out together?’ Warning bells were going off in my head. ‘I’m headed back to University, so I don’t think it will be possible.’ ‘Could I take you out to lunch, then? I’d really like to get to know you again.’ ‘Thanks anyway, Angie. I appreciate you asking. But I have to focus on my school. Maybe some other time? Bye.’ I hung up and.

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