His penis fully rigid and flexinginside the loops of squirming tongues, that familiar pressure builds. Hishands ball into fists, his forehead furrows,...his eyes close tightlyagain. He gulps in air and holds it, his mouth agape. A thick line ofsemen, still as richly white as before, fires from the tip and is stoppedonly by his chin, it lands as a chopped rope from belly to throat. Hisbreath expels in a cough, runnels of cream flow continuously from thereddened penis cap and form a glistening pool. Those little strips of elastic didn't do much to shape them these days.My tummy was almost flat. I had left on the road trip with a belly dancer's tummy, and even that was gone by the time I got to California. I did enough pedaling on that damn bike to tighten up most of the muscles in my body. If it weren't for the fuzzy hair, and my really skinny legs, I would be killer. As it was, I was probably an eight. Okay, old bitch eight, but still an eight.I dressed for the Cop Out. I put on a push up. Finally they were on the freeway headed north. Greg sat in his usual seat and looked out the window. His mind wandered loose, flitting from one thought to another as he concentrated of nothing in particular. There had been so much happen in the past week, what with the recovery of the gold coins, the chess match, and the sword and all. It was almost too much for one person to handle."Want to play chess?" Dog asked him. Greg gave Dog a mental nod yes closed his eyes and they played chess on a. I’d packed too many bags to carry; we were having the wrong lunch; no I hadn’t packed a hairbrush for him because it’s his goddamned hair not mine; bicker, bicker, snip, snap, squabble. He looked at me with an expression of, what was it, hate? No, not quite. It was worst than that. Contempt. “We haven’t even got to Fantasy Park and I’m hating this already, " he grumped. "Christ, so much for the holiday of a lifetime that would mend our relationship.” “Let’s not forget whose idea this was..
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