I can't hold it anymore". I pulled open the same housecoat from two nights before. My dick was filled with so much blood it hurt. She slowly got off t...e wall. Slow isn't on the menu tonight. I could tell tonight would be a rather unique experience. It was written all over her. Literally, in fact. Her skin looked soft and shiny as if it were covered in oil. Her hair also seemed damp as if she'd just stepped out of the shower. Her hands clasped onto two different items. A blind fold hangs loosely. She smiled.********Forward to the spring of 1973, my sophomore year in high school. I was now seventeen years old and had my own car, a red 1967 Camaro four-speed hardtop coupe. Although I could drive, I didn’t have a steady girlfriend and really only had a few experiences of heavy petting on dates. This particular Saturday evening, the Johansson’s along with my mom and stepdad were going out again, like usual. I was asked to peek in on the girls and see if there was anything needed and to make. More

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