The Making of a Cocksman

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5-9 & Epilogue Available On

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Chapter Three

"You won't believe what happened to me!" she started out. Then there were the obligatory guesses. I couldn't sort out the voices, but they ranged from, "Your Mom caved and let you get that bikini you wanted!" to "You flunked that math test, didn't you." Not one of them guessed that she'd lost her virginity.

After she let them guess the wrong things for a minute or so, she whispered, in a loud whisper. "I got my cherry popped!"

Dead silence. At least for ten seconds.

Then it was bedlam, with all of them screaming like only fifteen year old girls can scream.

Then there were the rapid fire questions. "Who was it?" "What was it like" "Are you lying to us?" "Did it hurt?" "Who was it?!"

That last question got asked a lot. Finally it quieted down. I could just imagine Claire standing there grinning, holding court, waiting for the masses to quiet so she could tell them all the lurid details. This was it. My life would be over. I'd be sent to reform school.

Claire's voice piped up again. "I can't tell you who did it."

There was a chorus of complaints.

My sister went on. "Really, I can't. I swore to keep it secret. The guy could get in a lot of trouble because of my age." That made sense to them, but the other questions were re-asked. Claire began what sounded like a prepared speech. "It was wonderful. Really. It felt sooo good I wanted it to last forever. And he was so gentle with me, and he really cared about how I felt. If I wasn't so scared about getting pregnant I'd let him do it again."

Monique spoke up. "You mean he didn't even use a rubber?" She sounded incredulous.

Claire defended herself. "It all happened kind of fast. I mean we weren't planning on doing it, and then it kind of happened and besides that he felt so warm inside me I don't think I'd like it if he used a rubber anyway."

Suzie was next. "Did he ... you know ... squirt in you?"

Claire sighed. "Oh yes and that was almost the best part. His ... thing ... jumped each time it squirted and I could feel it and it was hot and wet feeling and it was just yummy."

Marge chimed in. "I can't believe this. You've only been allowed to date for a month. Come on Claire, who was it?"

"Even if I did tell you ... and I promised not to ... you wouldn't believe me anyway. He's ... older." She couldn't resist giving them clues. I had relaxed a little when she refused to tell them, but they were sharp girls, and if she gave them too many clues they were smart enough to do a little investigating and find out who she'd been seen out with.

"How come you didn't tell us you were going on a date?" That was Marge again. She sounded suspicious to me.

"Yeah, if you weren't planning on doing it why wouldn't you tell us you were going out?" Knobby Robby finally made her debut as an inquisitor.

Claire was caught off guard. "Well ... um ... it wasn't a date exactly. I mean we didn't plan on anything to happen."

Marge bored in. "So you met this guy, and didn't plan on anything, and skipped the first kiss, and the petting and went straight to getting it on?! What's going on Claire? Come on, give!"

The pressure was growing. I could feel the tension through the little holes in the wall. I was sweating again.

Claire tried to buck up. "It doesn't matter who it was!" she yelled - entirely too loud in my opinion. "All that matters is that it happened, and I'm glad it happened, and you all just have to try it!"

More bedlam as five girls squealed and screamed and yelled about how they were going to do this, or not going to do that, and who would they do it with anyway and on and on.

When it finally quieted down Claire said "I might know somebody you could do it with." Her attitude was like she hadn't listened to any of their objections. If the Sheriff said they were going to get their cherries popped, then that was what they were going to do.

Donna spoke up for the first time. "Who is it?"

Claire was still trying to control things, though. "I'm not going to tell you until you all agree to do it."

I had been about to leave my closet, because I was getting tired. I had been all tensed up, listening to what I was sure was going to be my downfall. But her offer to find them a hard prick had me glued to the wall. I mean it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who she was talking about. Not to me anyway. As far as I knew, she only had access to one rigid prick, and it was ... mine.

I was suddenly and urgently interested in what would come next.

I'm here to tell you Claire had an iron grip on her posse. It only took her forty-five minutes to get them all to agree to lose their virginity to a man of her choice. I also learned that they had some kind of solemn oath that they took when something really important was in the offing. They all repeated a bunch of words that I couldn't understand because they weren't quite saying them all at the same time, and then Donna demanded again "Okay, now who is it?"

There was a period of silence that about killed me and then Claire said, "Bobby."

I expected pandemonium again, but it was strangely quiet.

Marge suddenly blurted, "I knew it!"

Claire said, "I didn't say I did it with Bobby. Ewww, Marge! I said you guys are going to do it with Bobby."

Suzie said "Oh Claire ... I don't know about this."

"You swore!" accused Claire.

"Yeah, but that was before I knew it would be your brother."

Marge broke in. "I kind of like the idea. I've thought he was cute for a long time."

Then the pandemonium set in again. I heard, variously, "How do you know he'll do it?" and "Oh, he'll do it okay" and "Bobby? I can't imagine doing it with Bobby!" and "Okay Margie, since you think he's so cute you have to be first," and "Bobby? I can't do it with Bobby!" and "I guess doing it with Bobby wouldn't be so bad," and a whole bunch more.

The only one I never heard say a single word was Knobby Robby.

By then I was all cramped up. When they started talking about planning dates based on their cycles, and whether to use rubbers or not and all that stuff I limped out of my closet and lay down on the bed.

I hadn't even felt it happen, but I was hard as a rock.

Now I have to tell you that, despite what I'd heard through that wall, I didn't actually think anything was going to happen with the posse. I mean that was all just talk, right? But a guy can dream, and I'd seen enough of the posse in bathing suits and pajamas to be able to bring up some images that made my stiff dick really happy.

I also knew that, with the posse there, Claire wouldn't be coming into my room for anything involving my dick, so I started stroking it slowly, thinking of Donna and that picture in the Playboy of the other Donna.

So imagine my surprise when my door opened and Claire walked in like she owned the place.

Her eyes got big as she saw what I was doing. I had just pushed my shorts down enough to get to Mr. Happy and was just lying there on my back, my hand wrapped firmly around him. My first thought was that member(s) of the posse might be right behind her. I stuffed my dork back in my shorts and half sat up.

"Shit Claire!" I gasped. "You scared the crap out of me!" I was caught between sitting up and lying down and rocked on the bed until I got my legs involved and sat all the way up.

"What are you doing?" she gasped back.

I think it was one of those rhetorical questions. She knew exactly what I was doing. She'd seen me do it before, after all.

"You need to learn to knock," I grumbled.

"You're supposed to save that for me," she said in a loud whisper.

Now where did that come from? The last I heard was we 'might' do it again some time ... if she felt like it, and wasn't pregnant.

I remembered that I wasn't supposed to know anything about the conversation she'd just had with the posse. "What do you want. You can't want to do that with all the girls here." I said.

That reminded her of why she'd come barging into my room in the first place.

"Um ... I wanted to ask you something," she said. She looked uncertain about how to go on.

"Okay ..." I prompted.

"Well, you know what we did, right?" She looked like she actually wanted me to tell her I remembered. She was just full of stupid questions that night. But she went on. "Um ... what if somebody else wanted to do that, but not with their boyfriend? Like, maybe for practice or something. I mean would you help them learn how to do it?"

There was another stupid question. What guy would say, "No, I don't think I'm interested in getting in a girl's panties if she doesn't want to hang on me like a third arm, and talk about marriage some day and tell the world I'm hers."

But I didn't want to sound needy, so I said, "I guess it would depend on who the girl was." Then I added. "Why would a girl want to do that anyway?"

Now I didn't think that was a stupid question, but Claire acted like it was.

"Why did I want to know what it was like? It sure wasn't because you're such a stud or anything. I just wanted to know what if felt like."

Oh, so now she was just experimenting, and all that stuff about how hot it would be to see me jack off was forgotten. As I recalled things, I'd almost raped her, except that it turned out that after that first little split second of shock when my mouth touched her she wasn't in the mood to resist. And now, somehow, she had decided that she let me fuck her because she was curious.

Who understands the way girls think?

So I tried to act 'normal'. "Okay, okay, so who is it?"

"You'll do it then?" she asked. Claire was really into getting commitment before she gave out all the information. She'd probably grow up to sell insurance or something.

"I might ... depending on who it is." I insisted.

She looked exasperated. The Sheriff wasn't used to people questioning her authority.

"What if it was one of the girls in the posse?" she asked.

I tried to look surprised. "Well, most of them are kind of cute I guess it would depend on which one." I had to act normal, right?

Claire didn't know what to do now. She looked at me with a frown. Then she looked behind her, at the closed door. "What if it was Marge?" she asked finally.

I made my eyebrows go up. I was so proud of myself. "Marge wants me to screw her?" I asked.

Claire's frown deepened. "You make it sound so dirty!" she said. I didn't find out until later that "screwing" was something dirty people did. Nice people 'made love' as far as Claire was concerned. They might 'fuck', but you could only call it that while you were actually doing it.

Like I said, who understands the way girls think?

I decided that Claire was too much in charge here. So I went on defense. "Did you tell them what we did?" I whispered fiercely. Or at least what I thought would sound fierce.

Her reaction was fabulous. "No! Of course not! Why would I do that?" she asked, trying to look just as injured as I was trying to sound fierce.

"Why all this sudden interest in ... me? By Marge, I mean," I asked.

"Well, maybe it came up in conversation that I wasn't a virgin any more," she said, looking off to one side of me. She couldn't quite meet my gaze. "But I didn't tell them how it happened or anything like that. I just said I liked it, and Marge said she might want to find out what it was like too."

She was good. I had to give her that. If I hadn't listened at the wall I might have bought it. But I knew that Claire didn't want to be the only one who knew what it was like to have a stiff cock in her pussy, and that if the whole posse did it too then she wouldn't have to feel like she was a pervert or something. At least that's what I thought.

"So I was good?" I asked.

Claire looked confused for a few seconds until she realized she had complimented me on my lovemaking skills, such as they were. I could just hear the gears turning in her pretty little head. If she said what she wanted to say, it would probably be something like, "It was good. All you were was a stiff prick. Doing it with a dildo would be just as good except your prick is warm." That's what a normal sister might say to her brother.

Come to think of it, if a brother and sister have had sex, can they be called normal at all from then on? Would they argue about sex the same way they argue about chores?

Sorry, I digress.

She didn't say that. Instead she turned on the charm. "Well of course you were good. I mean you were my first, and I don't have anybody to compare you to, but I had a really good time Bobby. And I think Marge would have a good time too if you were maybe a little more gentle or something. Come on, wouldn't you like to see Margie naked?"

Another stupid question. But guys are stupid too sometimes, and that question reoriented my thinking. Of course I'd like to see Large Marge naked. Those huge tits must be mouth watering. I'd dreamed of seeing those tits for a long time.

I remembered to use restraint. "Well, I guess that would be cool." I decided to turn on some charm too. "You were really beautiful."

She actually blushed! Score one for the males of the species.

"So you'll do it?" she was eager now.

"When?" I asked. I had to get ready for this. If I didn't want to squirt instantly - and I knew I would - I'd have to beat off before we did any fooling around.

"Now," she said. "Tonight."

Shit! That took me by surprise. My cock had softened while we talked. But it spoke up now. It said "Yes! Okay! Bring it on!" What came out of my mouth was an astonished, "Okay."

She said, "Cool," and turned around to leave.

I panicked. My mind was screaming "No! Wait, I need to get ready for this! What about Mom and Dad? What about birth control? Do I need to take a shower? What about cologne? Should I shave?" That last part was pretty silly. I shaved once every month or so just so I could say I did, but leaving the blade out of the razor wouldn't have made any difference to the final result.

But she was gone and the door was closed and I was left there with the shakes, wondering if I'd just made a horrible mistake.

I'm not sure Marge was as eager to lose her virginity as Claire let on, because it was a long time before there was a timid knock at my door. Long enough that I had time to calm down and think about things. I mean how different was this from what I did with the older girls? I'd just play with Marge and if she had a good time and wanted more I'd do more. And if she froze up then that was okay too. She really was beautiful, so it was a win/win situation regardless of how far things went. Even if all we did was kiss and grope a little it would be okay. I'd beaten off after dates plenty of times.

I arranged myself artfully on the bed, lying on my side, holding my head up with one hand, the other hand draped across my stomach. I saw an issue of "True Detective" at my Aunt's house, and it had a picture of a guy lying like that with a babe looking at him like she wanted to jump his bones. I was going for suave and debonair.

Marge stuck her head in the door. Just her head. "Can I talk to you?" she asked.

"Sure," I said suavely.

She came in and stopped. She had on pajamas with pictures of Barbie on them. Barbie was another fantasy of mine, so that was just fine.

"You're half naked!" she squeaked.

She didn't sound like a girl who was full of lust and who couldn't wait to have me climb between what I was sure were her soft, flawless thighs.

"Well, uh ... I sleep this way," I managed. Suave and debonair flew right out the window. I made a hasty grab at the tail end of debonair. "You've seen me like this at the pool lots of times."

"Oh. Yeah." She relaxed a little. She didn't move though. I thought I had managed to coax debonair back into the room, so I patted the bed beside my stomach. "Have a seat. What do you want to talk about?"

This is a game that adults play all the time. Both the man and the woman know what the rules are and what it is that they want. They want good, sweaty, hot sex, with a juicy orgasm at the end. But for some reason they aren't honest about it in the beginning. They have to play the game of trying to convince each other that sex is the last thing on their mind, and that nice, unsexy conversation is what this is really all about. I think kids learn that from adults without actually thinking about it. Like through osmosis or something.

What I really wanted to say was, "Get naked baby, and let's do the bump ugly!" But what I said was "Have a seat. What do you want to talk about?"

Marge had learned the game too, whether she knew it or not. She came a few steps closer and asked, "Do you like me?"

This, from a girl who had tormented me on every occasion she could for the last three or four years.

My response made about as much sense. "Sure, you're okay for a girl."

I said we learned the game by osmosis. I didn't say we were any good at the game. Being good at the game takes practice, and neither Large Marge nor I had much of that.

She was incensed. "Bobby! That's a horrible thing to say to a girl!"

I realized my mistake, and that debonair had fled the premises once again. It's probably good that it did, because my next response was based on common sense.

"Look Marge, you're a beautiful girl, and I like you a lot. I'm glad about it every time you come over. I didn't pay that much attention to you when we were younger, but you've really grown up and I really like being around you."

Who needs suave or debonair when actual compliments are better anyway? And I found suddenly that they were true too. I did like being around her. She was smart and she really was gorgeous, with that short blond hair that framed her pixie face and those lovely blue eyes that I'd never actually noticed before. And her breasts were ... well they were impressive. Even covered up they were impressive. I remembered why she'd come there and my cock began to do things in my shorts.

She chose that moment to sit tentatively on the edge of the bed. She had to crane her neck to look at me, but at least she couldn't see the evidence of the arousal she caused. I didn't think she was quite ready for that yet.

"I don't know about this," she said, to no one in particular.

"Look Marge," I said. "You don't have to do everything Claire tells you to do."

Oops, a little slip there. I was afraid she'd catch it and want to know how I knew Claire was telling her to do this. But she didn't. She had too many other things on her mind. I had learned that telling a girl she didn't have to do anything gave her the confidence to try something she knew she probably shouldn't try, but wanted to anyway. I didn't know if that would work with Marge, but I suddenly hoped so. Up close I could see that Barbie's face had a nipple under it, and that nipple was sticking out, making Barbie's face stick out too. That pretty well finished the job of making Mr. Happy all ready to ... be happy.

"Really?" she replied. This poor girl was brainwashed. Claire's approval was pretty important to her.

"Really." I said. I'd love to fool around a little. You're gorgeous and I like you, but you don't have to do anything at all if you don't want to."

"But what will I tell them when I go back?" she whined.

"You don't have to tell them anything," I said. "Or you can tell them we did whatever you want to tell them we did."

I'm a guy. Things are simple like that. We lie. I figured girls did too, you know?

"That won't work," she said miserably. "They'll know. Why did I ever say I wanted to do this with you?"

"You said that?" I asked. "Really? I thought Claire just bullied you into it." Another slip of the tongue. But again she missed it.

She looked at me out of the side of her eye, through long, beautiful lashes. "Well, you are cute," she said. Some mystical sense told me she thought I was going to make fun of her. Well, maybe it wasn't all that mystical. After all, every time I'd had anything to do with her in the past I'd made fun of her. She did it to me too. That was who we were. Back then.

But this was now, and so I reached out and touched her cheek with one finger. "Thanks." I said.

She relaxed and I knew I'd scored another point.

"So what do we do now?" she asked.

I decided to see just how cute I really was. "Well, why don't you lie down here beside me and kiss me. Then you could talk about the kiss and maybe they'd forget about everything else."

"Fat chance!" she said, but she turned to climb over me. If I'd have been further back she could have just laid down, but Suave was off taking a leak or something and wasn't in the room.

So, naturally, I rolled to my back.

And naturally my rock hard boner made a tent in my shorts that a blind person couldn't miss.

"Ooooo," she said in a voice that was all breathy. She had one hand on my hip, getting ready to climb over me, but she stopped and stared. I realized that Barbie's PJs could have used another button, but I was suddenly very glad they didn't because I got a shot of what made Marge ... Large Marge. Mr. Happy gave a little jump for joy and it looked like I had a squirrel in my pants.

"OOOooooo," she sighed again.

She looked up at me and debonair made one more appearance as I suavely said, "You're a stone fox, Margie ... what did you expect?"

Well, apparently when a girl sees that a guy she doesn't actually hate has a boner for her, it pushes one of those hormone buttons that girls have scattered around their bodies. Suddenly she was a lot less anxious and a lot more interested in that kiss I had suggested. She climbed on over and flopped down beside me. I rolled toward her and slid my arm under hers, letting it lie across her waist. Her eyes were big, and she was staring at me with a look that would make any guy feel like he was king of the world. Her lips were slightly open because she was breathing long slow breaths that wouldn't fit through her nostrils. Her lips looked pink and plump and warm and soft.

So I kissed them.

They were warm and soft.

I had a lot of experience with this part. I was a good kisser and I knew it. I knew how to French kiss, and I knew how to do little nibble kisses, and how to kiss the corner of a girl's mouth and her neck and all that stuff. And it was a lot of fun too. I knew right away that Marge, the best looking girl in the whole posse, hadn't had too much experience with kissing. It wasn't that she wasn't any good. She took to it like a duck takes to water. But she enjoyed it SO much that I knew it was new to her. So we necked for like what seemed forever and I had a good time. She did too. She snuggled up against me and the fact that my nasty old boner was poking right into her PJ clad muffy didn't seem to bother her one little bit. I wasn't doing anything with my hands, and maybe that made her feel more secure.

At some point we took a break to breathe. Both of us needed it. She was panting like she'd run up three flights of stairs. I was in a little better shape, having learned how to snatch the odd breath as the position of my lips changed. I already had ample evidence that I was cute enough to swap serious spit with. I decided to try for more.

"You could tell the girls about those kisses ... and how I kissed your breasts ... if you want."

I don't know if debonair was back in the room or not, but after her eyes said, "Wow, I'm startled!", they got ... I don't know ... deep maybe? It's hard to describe, but they looked big enough and blue enough to swim in somehow.

"Okay," she said.

But she didn't do anything.

So it was up to me to suavely and debonairly get those luscious orbs naked. I only had one hand, because the other was kind of under me. I tried, but it didn't work. So she rolled to her back and that let me get up a little and bring both hands to bear. She had that look in her eye again, that deep look, so I felt like everything was going well. Something told me not to hurry, and I unbuttoned each button and then went to the next one without spreading the material apart. Then they were all done. I reached out and very slowly pulled the edges apart so that the valley between her breasts was bare. Then something told me to kiss that valley. I think debonair had finally decided he wasn't ashamed of me any more. After I kissed that I kissed her lips again, and then leaned back up to uncover nirvana.

Oh man they were beautiful. They were round and full and had the most luscious pink tips. Her areolas were tiny, and her nipples weren't large either, more like large peas. But they were hard as a rock.

Debonair cringed as I said, "Okay, I'm going to kiss them now."

Marge said, "Okay". Had I known enough, I'd have thanked my lucky stars that she didn't roll off that bed and walk out at what had to look like an almost academic approach to kissing her breasts.

And then I didn't kiss them. Not really. I went straight for her left nipple and sucked that baby into my mouth.

It was like I'd stuck her with a pin or something. She gave a strangled "MPFFT" sort of sound and her chest strained up off the bed. Just so's I could say I'd gotten them both I switched nipples and sucked that one too. That got me an "Ohhhhhhhh", which sounded lots better.

Now all you guys out there, and you girls too who play softball, know that you don't just stop at second base. The whole point of the game is to get to home plate. So after kissing and nipple sucking, it's just normal to want to steal to pussy ... so to speak. But I was chicken. Things were going so well, and I was having a hell of a good time, and I didn't want any umpires yelling that I was out, or that the game was called on account of fear or whatever. So I ended up going back to her lips and then used my hands on her breasts and nipples, pinching them and moving those big jugs around on her chest. And I must have pushed another of those hormone buttons somewhere, because her kisses got hotter and hotter and all of a sudden her hand was on mine and it was pushing my hand toward where I wanted to go in the worst way.

Believe it or not, I was going too slow!

Marge told me later that after I sucked her nipples she decided right then and there that her virginity was toast. She was ready. But I didn't know it.

I found out when my hand slid under the elastic band of her pajama bottoms and through the fluffiest and softest pussy hair I had ever felt and into a mess of wet that any guy would know meant this girl was turned on!

I speeded things up then. I was getting pretty heated up myself. Wet pussy will do that to a guy. I slid a finger into Margie's virgin pussy and probed deep. She made that strangled sound again, this time in my mouth because I was kissing her as I did it. I sawed my finger in and out, trying to find and rub her clitty, which I knew had to be there, somewhere. I must have gotten it a few times because she pushed at my chest.

I thought I had gone too far, but Marge shimmied out of her PJs and was suddenly achingly naked.

"I want to try it," she panted.

"Are you sure?" I asked. This was serious stuff now.

"Yes ... please," she said. "I want to be able to tell them about all of it."

My shorts joined Barbie, where they had a ringside seat on Marge's defloration, which actually went very well, in my opinion. I got up over her and almost shot off just looking at her lying there, all blond and big-titted and her legs were open for me and I already knew how wet and slick she was. And when I nudged the tip of my prick between those two plump pink pussy lips of hers and she put her hands on my shoulders and pushed up with her heels, I knew she really did want to try it.

Marge was a natural. She was as hot as asphalt on a July day and she'd rubbed herself almost raw lots of times, though of course I didn't know that then. She'd destroyed her hymen long ago and my adolescent prick fit her like a glove. If anything she was bigger than me. I slid into her like ice cream slides down your throat. And Marge loved to fuck from the git-go. As soon as I was all the way in her she bucked and thrashed and moaned and cried and told me she loved me and all kinds of stuff.

I later found out that she was responsible for three of the other girls deciding to actually let me pop their cherries.

Get this. They were all out in the hall listening. They'd actually come to see what was taking so long and had been about to knock on the door when she let out a moan they heard clear out in the hallway. I guess girls can tell when a moan is a good moan instead of a bad one, because they all froze and listened to Marge have her very first orgasm caused one hundred percent by my rock hard prick.

And my good looks, of course.

It wouldn't be her last. Not by a long shot. But more on that later. Right now my balls are all full and want to cum, just like they did that night.

I did to Marge what you could only call pounding. I slammed into her again and again, withdrawing only enough to slam forward one more time. And she loved that rough treatment. After Margie crashed through an orgasm or three I finally decided I'd done my duty. I should have pulled out of her, but I didn't want to. Instead, I slammed in one last time and held it deep while Mr. Happy upchucked sperm right into her teenage womb. Cumming in Claire had been amazing. This was too, but it was different. It was Large Marge, and while my prick was spitting and seeding her but good, I was lying on those fabulous soft spongy Barbie tits. I wanted to cum like a fire hydrant that somebody lost the wrench to turn off.

Of course it didn't work that way. I collapsed on top of Marge and she grabbed my face and was babbling her thank-you's and kissing me and I'm absolutely sure that if I'd have asked her to marry me at that second she'd have screamed "Yes!" at the top of her lungs.

Thankfully, I didn't. But the girls in the hall heard all her thank you's and that sealed the deal. We lay there for a few minutes longer and suddenly she got all perky.

"I have to go!" she said, looking at her wrist, which was bare. "I have to get back to Claire's room. What if your parents catch us?"

Now was a fine time to ask that question.

But I rolled off of her and had just the teeniest glimpse of red looking pussy lips covered with thick white spunk before she closed her legs, sat up and covered herself with Barbie again. I may have moaned again as the top covered up Nirvana and, after one quick kiss on the lips and a last, "Thank you Bobby ... I mean it," she was gone.

Mr. Happy was ecstatic. But I was too tired to even go listen to what she said through the wall. Even if Marge was the only one who ever let me touch her, it had been worth it. And, based on her attitude when she left, I had a pretty good idea that I'd get to see ... and suck ... those wonderful tits again too.

I thought about that as I drifted off to sleep.

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