e eu fui ao jardim e vi a moca gritar de amor e tesao. The last time we meet he is nervous and started shaking! I smile coyly and he licks his lips apprehensivly . . Does he know I keep my strap ons in the drawer below the one were I keep my suspenders and stockings? I find myself wondering, what he would look like on his knees in front of me, my fattest cock stuffed deep in his arse his beautiful eyes watering,heathers dad is watching in the background longinly gazing back at me through long lashes, hurt and amazed. I smile again and open my legs slightly before I get up, just to see where his eyes go.

I come back, watching him, watching me.  I sit down next to you, kiss you below your ear, my eyes on him and whisper, 'fresh meat?'  You nod. I notice him shiver softly.

He wears his innocence like a scarf, I get wet imagining bodies tying him up with it. I feel buck, like i want to get more buck wild than i have ever been before in my life.

Pass me your loquacious tongue, tie around my own cunt dripping all over my eyelashes and stuck together.

He asks you to rub his chest with your stubble.  Your nails scratch him, leaving marks that disappear as you tower over him as if the were made in water. He lies between us and we stroke him, spank him. He is uncomfortable being the object of both our attentions; a look of momentary panic as we touch him together, not knowing who to respond to. I kiss him; his mouth is dry, our eyes are open. I take his hand gently and brush my lips over his yielding fingers. He sighs and smiles, I move our hands down the tangle of sheets. He relaxes between us and I reach over to you, feeling you getting hard against him. I open my legs for him to fist me. Then we fuck him.

He lays between us sleeping, we all hug. I felt closer to you than I ever have before. 

In the morning you said this is how it ought to always be; but when you cooked him breakfast and kissed him on the lips I knew you'd never done it this way before.  Despite myself I envied that tenderness, that you wore like a brand new shirt, perfect and unspoiled. He had to go.

When he's away you say it is like there is an empty hole, and we laugh.

You know I miss him. I know you do, too. How wonderful and unexpected that we three fell so easily together. Yet all things change. Now, there are only four hands, not six, two mouths, not three.

Still, I want this, now, I want the hair on your head and your rough face grazing my thighs. You know this is how I like to be touched; through the split in my skirt; vehemently- without the tenderness that you reserve for our next meal. Physicality beyond sexuality. A fraternal touch between two comrades, the passion, the sensuality and the common goal to achieve a new dimension of lust. For what are we? If not beautiful dancers of the  mistress pleasure, then promiscuous beasts ravishing each other leaving one but a fragile wreck in a storm of emotion.

He loomed over my naked body like a hungry badger, just awoken from his winters slumber. I quivered and he barked at me. I could not wait for him any shorter.

My whole body was numb as his dripping hell hole exploded onto my into my already moist bellybutton.

I writhed around in his liquid, his love juices, his passion sweat.  He licked it off my body, started low, toes. Knees. Oh higher...sooo HIGH. bellybutton. and then...i had an uncontrollable urge to become intimate with his athletes' foot feet.

'Basically he's a fackin little cunt...u wouldnt talk to your fackin  nan like that would u son!

'so then i turned to women, as he could not fulfill my innermost desires..'

I could not resist her soft tender lips and that lingering soft smell of her perfum left on my shirt as the memories of her soft body presed up againest my feelings..

I quickly racked up a 16 base pyramid. I nominated like it was going out of fashion. I lost insanely. Once again, i was BUCK WILD!!!! I FUCKED A BITCH.

 Regardless of the continuing events, in a land far fare away there was a unlikely group of explorers, adventures and pioneers of sensuality. "Woof woof" barked little jimmy ravinoulsy at Simon the cat. Simon the Cat, most intreguingly replied "meowwwwwwwww". "Oh my" Said Paul Kilsby. And so it was, on that little island, the murder of sensibilty.

Alison hounered the code of mating as Mr. Alexander approuched her and offered her a drink at Fuzzy Ducks. "Yes please" She replied most thirstily. "I simply NEED a drink". But Mr. Alex had gone, disappeared into the ether.

Myfanwy was a shy one. But we simply respected her too much to invent some perverse narrative. We will not do this, never. We are respectable students. Good bye and may the art be with you...