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As I had walked the few hundred feet from her house back to mine I could still smell her on my breath and by the time I was inside my cock was stirring literally in its own juices in my pants. I was humiliated at losing control but happy that I could honestly tell her today that I did not “touch myself”. I wasn’t sure what to expect today but I felt confident that she would be ready and I was hopeful that her tight little body would torture me differently today. She answered the door promptly but today she was dressed in slacks and a pull over blouse. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, something which most women do not know that I find sexy. She greeted me with a peck on the cheek and immediately handed me a mug of warm creamy liquid. “Hi, Ben. Come on in and sit down, I want you to drink this and tell me what you think of it,” she said. We sat in her living room for a few minutes as I consumed the drink. “Hmmm, takes sweet, sort of like pineapple,” I said. She smiled and. The things I either forgive, or don't even think about, where it concerns other I simply cannot ignore in myself. Doing my best has always meant driving ahead with every once of my being, and if I don't feel like I had to work hard to do something then I didn't work hard enough. There are so many reasons for this. I feel obligations to me family, my teachers, myself and to those who have worked along side me. I slowly got off the couch and padded softly over to the kitchen. Peter was standing there at the island preparing our food. He had a small smile on his face and was listening to an oldies station. Moving slowly I came up behind him and ran my hands up his back and around his sides, hugging him from behind. He set down the knife and put his hands over mine. Holding my hands out from him he turned in my embrace and hugged me again. I just held onto him and breathed in his cologne and took in his warmth. He picked me up and carried me, without a word, back to the couch and laid me.
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