There's a familiar pressure of cock against underpants, the entrapment of the willing. A memory prods me, of when I was younger. Before women, before ...ex, but after the discovery of pleasure. I remember the motion and the feeling; the pure wanton release of youth, and the unbelievable frequency of it. I blush, remembering the stiff stained sheets; proof of the act, or sometimes just the dream.I lie on my back, calm and sure in the warmth, and slide my hands down my skin. There's a certain. "Oh, you can do better than that," she cooed. "Give it a proper kiss. I won't tell anyone you're into this. This is our little secret."I couldn't help myself. I kissed the top of her foot, sensually and lovingly."Good boy," Hope exclaimed. "Now, the sole."She shifted around, so she was also on her knees, facing away from me. She presented me with the soles of her feet. The light smell filled my nose, and I moaned louder. I'd never used to like feet, but over the past few weeks, with Hope making. More

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