My Grandma taught me and, when we were kids, used to make me an' Peter and my sister Gracie sing with the children's choir. Playing guitar is the only...thing other than football that makes sense to me all the time. I don't get school, I don't get women, I don't get life in general. Football and music, I get.I don't get Lisa. One minute she's rock solid, the next she's a fuckin' whimp. She still won't tell me who left the bruise on her arm last month. It wasn't me. I know that. I did leave one -. Well, that hadnt gone anywhere. I threw caution to the wind. Id like to kiss you. I blurted. Brian looked at me for a second, and then leaned over and kissed me full on the lips. He wasnt good at it, but I didnt know that, my heart was in my throat, and with the lemonade in one hand, I reached up with the other and held the kiss as long as I dared. Then I stood up and took his lemonade from him and set it with mine on my dresser. Then, knowing what I wanted, I lifted my skirt as I sat down. ‘You smell wonderful,’ he says. He buries his face in my hair again. I can feel his mouth just above my pussy. He stops and lifts his head up. ‘And you look just as good,’ he says. He places his hands on my inner thighs and parts my legs. His hands feel strong and hot on my flesh. He moves his hands underneath me to my ass and lifts me up slightly. I’m exposed and open to him. I feel his tongue—broad and strong—lick me from top to bottom as if my pussy was a sexy, hot popsicle. He does it over. I told him what we wanted and his answers were yes, he could do it and he was available on Friday night.I told him that my wife would be the recipient, but that she had sensitive skin and that most massage oils irritated her. He said that coconut oil would be the best option in her case. As we arranged, this guy Sandro arrived right on time with his portable table and coconut oil. I took him to our spare room where I had some of Anita's favorite music playing along with soft lighting. I was.
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