Tiffany moaned as soft as she could praying to God that Bobby wouldn't wake up. Her brother took turns sucking on each nipple so delicately. She wante... to cum right then and there! He moved his body down and started to tug at her shorts. She looked at him a bit frightened. "Are you OK?" He asked concerned. She nodded. "Yeah I'm fine but what if Bobby wakes up?"He looked towards his brother's room and smiled. "He won't wake up. Something tells me he won't."She bit her lower lips and lifted her. Everything was gold: the golden Baroque cities glistening under the glowing sun of August, and far away, the gently rising mountains of Theocritus directing our gaze to Homer's wine-dark sea. Now when I look back at myself at the age of fifteen, I recall only two pieces of literature that lent my monotonous school life a subtle romantic air: A la recherche du temps perdu by Marcel Proust and the Eclogues by Virgil. For a short time I was so fascinated by Eclogue II in which the handsome. More

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