“Oooh, that feels good,” I say as Bruce rubs his hands on my stomach, spreading the lotion over my skin.Moving his hands in small circles, one han... moves down and the other moves up.“Oh no, Bruce, here in public?” I moan in a whisper.“Yes, my dear, watch those who watch us.”I glance over at Pam and I can see a wet spot on her bikini bottom. I look around and see people watching as Bruce slides his fingers inside my bikini bottom, his other hand kneading my breast.Bruce slides a finger in my wet. ^^^^^^^^"You see," he began, "there are just a handful of reasons why someone with as many stories as you have written would skip that area. First, maybe you don't find anything about men erotic. But I read your one masturbation story, and even without hinting at what his fantasies are you nailed the whole physical sensuality of the experience." He chuckled. "Granted, that's kind of like the cliche of writing what you know, but it still has to be done well." Second, maybe you don't like gays.. It was the week before Christmas. I was driving through Illinois when it started snowing. It was late, around 9pm and the snow was getting heavier. I always carried a portable CB radio to talk with truckers while driving just to know what to expect what is ahead. I had been talking to this one driver that was a few miles behind me. His name was John. The snow was coming down harder and visibility was getting bad. John told me there was a truck stop coming up and asked if I would join him for. I chuckled at my now almost forgotten nickname: The Portly Poet. "Getting a bit more than Portly!"I glanced around. Now was not the time for another surprise visitor, for inside the fish I had found something. Looking like a series of dull white rings chained together with fine mesh, it unfolded into a fingerless half glove. Not silver, it wouldn't take a mark, even from my Runed dagger. Not the same material as my gray metal Titanium gloves, somehow it felt more silken. The tiny links holding.
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I’m talking to you.’ ‘OK, I thought she was talking to you last, but OK.’ ‘Is that all you can say is OK?’ My back was against the bar and
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