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” Your eyes glimmer with mischief and a little malevolence, and I’m lost in your gaze. “Well, baby boy, let’s go out to eat. I have a little surprise for you.” At these words my heart starts pounding again, and my cock grows a little in my jeans. Fuck… skinny jeans were not a good idea. You glance down and grin. “We’ll get to that, love. Don’t you worry.” I gulp and drive to the nearest restaurant, an Olive Garden that’s considerably nicer than anything else in the area. We walk into the restaurant, and you swagger ahead without bothering to wait for a hostess. Your confidence is intoxicating; hips swaying with purpose, long legs striding forward meaningfully, brown hair flowing behind you. I follow behind you like a little puppy dog, desperate to be near his master no matter the circumstances. You find a booth that suits our needs and sit down, gesturing for me to sit next to you. I do, and you immediately place one of you long legs over mine. You rub my shin up and down,. ..I need a bigger cock. Please don't be hurt. I don't want to hurt your feelings. I don't. But...I just like, you know? Bigger cocks. Say you understand. Okay?"I totally understood, of course. I'd never labored under any delusion that I was carrying around a big dick. In middle school I'd come to quickly realize that I had not been given anything close to the sort of cocks I saw in the showers, or later at night at home watching porn; and so, when Tara had said what she had said about not wanting to have intercourse with me, it didn't come as much of a surprise.So, as Tara and I began seeing each other (at her apartment, rather than my parents house where I was still living), we began having sex; but not intercourse. Rather, she introduced me to the extremely interesting, and exciting method of oral sex. I'd never before 'gone down' on any woman; though I had seen it done on various videos on-line, and the first time Tara laid back across her comfortable bed, spread her legs far.
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I realised this was intended as much to permit her some time with the kids as to let Peter with someone with whom he enjoyed emotional comfort. I wondered what material this woman whom I have admired and loved so much was made of. I knew I was not wrong when I began to regard her as an angel. Needless to say, Peter did not throw the tantrums of the previous day. An office colleague had visited the hospital during the evening and arranged a small room for her, on top of the ICU. She told me about the room and we quietly debated whether we should spend the night there. She was decisive and told me that we would go to the new room. It was more conveniently located. So, the affairs of the day taken care of and he having retired to sleep, we went up to the new room. The room was really small. It had a small sofa-cum-bed, whose length was not enough for her, and a sofa, whose foam had been compressed and dilapidated by extensive usage. Purely with a view reassuring her of my physical.

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