Chapter 31

The next day, I woke up and simply stared at the ceiling. Kendall was gone. Gina was gone. And while I definitely looked forward to spending some time with Susan, I was a little depressed. I thought saying goodbye to Kendall would’ve been easier than it was with Gina, but I was wrong. Way wrong. In the week that we’d spent together, Kendall and I had grown unbelievably close. With her gone, it was like a piece of me was missing.

In a way, I dreaded going home. I’d have to face Amy and tell her that we couldn’t be together. I’d miss Susan as well. But I was also looking forward to going home. I’d get to see Gina, and she’d hopefully get to spend some time with me at our house. But in addition, I was looking forward to the routine of school and home life. I know it sounds strange, but I think I might’ve had enough fun for one summer.

I think I could have lain there and ruminated all day, but a noise from below disturbed my thoughts. Mom and Dad were getting up. One of them went to the bathroom and I heard the other moving quietly about the cabin. I wondered what they were doing up so early, but then I remembered that Dad had to leave for another series of trips.

I decided to roll out of my bunk and do my workout anyway, in spite of my semi-somber mood. When I climbed down the ladder, Mom smiled at me. Once Dad finished in the bathroom, I used it myself and then grabbed my workout shorts. As I walked outside, my parents both headed back into the bathroom to shower together.

Later that day, Susan, Erin, and I ate lunch together. Mom wouldn’t be back from Columbia until mid-afternoon, so she’d asked Susan to make sure Erin and I had lunch. She knew we could take care of ourselves, but I think it made her feel better to know that Susan was watching out for us.

In the afternoon, Susan came down to the lake to lay out with us for a while. When she got up to head back to her house, she gestured for me to join her. Once we were at her house, she handed me an overstuffed manila envelope.

“Stacy wanted to keep them,” she said, “but...”

I opened the envelope and extracted a stack of Polaroids. They were the ones Stacy and I had taken, the year before.

“She didn’t think she should have them around,” Susan continued. “Especially now that Jason ... well ... you know.”

I nodded and then looked through some of the pictures.

“And she wanted to give them to you herself, but ... well ... I guess things were a little hectic toward the end of the move.”

“Yeah.”

In the pictures, Stacy was thinner, almost waiflike. And her pubic hair had been shaved at the time. Where she was almost painfully skinny, I was pudgy and soft. For a moment, I wondered what she’d ever seen in me. Then I looked at a picture of me and I knew. I was leaning against the doorframe, smiling warmly, and even I felt like I’d like to know the guy in the picture.

“You’ve changed a lot since then,” Susan said quietly.

“No kidding.”

“And not just on the outside, either.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you know what you want to do with them?”

“Not really,” I said.

We talked about it briefly, then ultimately decided that I probably shouldn’t keep them. When I asked if I should just throw them away, she suggested I burn them instead. Before we put them to the match, however, we did use them for a bit of inspiration.

Susan wasn’t as limber as Stacy, but her enthusiasm and experience more than made up for the difference.

I’d been trying to think of a good going away present for Susan, and when I came up with one, I asked for Mom’s help. The next time she went to town for groceries, I rode with her. I told her that I wanted to get Susan something living, something that would last, and Mom made a few suggestions.

Once we got to the hardware store, Mike McMasters showed us to the garden section, considered our request, and helped us make a selection. He was actually quite knowledgeable about flowers and plants in general, and he suggested bougainvillea, mandevilla, or jasmine. Mom quietly told me that Susan liked the scent of jasmine, so I bought two of them, along with some decorative weatherproof containers.

Susan’s eyes grew misty when I invited her outside to show her my gift. I couldn’t really gift wrap them, so I had simply affixed red bows to each of the pots. She hugged me and then looked at Mom.

“It was all his idea,” Mom said, pointing at me. “I just drove.”

Then Susan gave me a big thank-you kiss and looped her arm through mine. With that, Mom headed back to our car, to drive back to our cabin. Wearing a look I easily recognized, Susan practically dragged me inside to thank me again. And again. And again.

During the week Dad was gone, Mom and Susan spent a lot of time with the Raefords, getting to know them. I spent some time hanging out with them, but not as much as I had when Kendall was still in camp.

I hung out with Erin. I could tell that she missed Drew as much as I missed Kendall (and Gina). I also tried to get a feel for how far Erin and Drew had gone. I guess it was half protectiveness and half curiosity.

She probably expected me to grill her about it, and when I didn’t, she relaxed quite a bit and opened up. She wasn’t exactly talkative about what they did together (mostly heavy petting), but she wasn’t secretive either. Basically, I respected her privacy and she respected mine.

Dad returned the next Saturday. Mom got all dressed up to meet him at the airport in Columbia, and they spent the afternoon in the city. The following day, the Raefords and a number of other families left. The day after that, things began to settle into a normal late-summer routine.

Susan and I spent time together, but we weren’t overt about it. My whole family knew, of course, but we still tried to be discreet. She and I basically enjoyed ourselves together, talking, lying by the lake, having sex, making love, or just plain fucking.

My family spent our last week at camp just relaxing. With so many other families leaving, the camp soon seemed like a ghost town, with a few permanent residents, the occasional weekend visitors from the surrounding towns, and retired couples.

Finally, my family had to start getting ready to go home. Susan was sad to see us leave, but she planned to visit Atlanta. When I asked her what she was going to do the rest of the time, she smiled mischievously.

“I’ve got a few friends who come for off-season visits,” she said.

“Other swinging couples?” I asked.

“Maybe one or two.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“Besides,” she said with a sly grin, “this is the electronic age. I’ve got a few toys. But they’re not like you. You’re ... a lot more energetic.”

I blushed suitably.

Teasing, she offered to show me how some of them worked.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I don’t mind the idea, but I guess I prefer the old fashioned way.”

“Oh, so do I,” she said, “but toys are sometimes fun.” Then she sighed with mocking wistfulness. “When my smart, funny, sexy lover isn’t here, the toys’ll have to do.”

My blush only deepened. “So, what are you gonna do the rest of the time?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“I’ve got the boys coming home soon,” she replied, “so I’ve got to get the house ready. And I’m going to visit Stacy.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“And I suspect I’ll do some traveling this fall and winter. I want to go to Houston to see Doug at school, and then I want to go to California to see some friends from the Navy. I’m planning to visit Atlanta, of course, and I’m going to go see Kirk graduate. While I’m in Annapolis, I want to go to Arlington.”

“Oh? What’s in Arlington?”

“Not what, who,” she said.

“Okay. So who’s in Arlington?”

“Jack.”

“Jack? Who’s he?” And then I Got It. “Oh ... Oh! Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she said, caressing my face gently. “I want to visit his grave. It ... it’s been a while since I’ve been there. And ... and I want to talk to him ... to tell him about you and Stacy.”

After that, I put my arm around her and she simply held me tight. She didn’t cry, but her mind was clearly somewhere else, somewhen else.

My last evening with Susan was actually pretty quiet. My parents and Susan had talked about it, and they agreed that I could spend the night at Susan’s house. Instead of wild, passionate sex, we made love slowly, tenderly. Afterward, I held her and she did cry. When her tears dried, she clung to me in silence. Then, softly, she cleared her throat.

“When Jack went on cruise ... the last time,” she said, her voice slowly gaining strength. “We spent our last night at a friend’s house on the Pacific. We could hear the surf all night, and it was so peaceful. The next morning, we got up early and walked along the beach.” She paused to wipe her cheeks. “That’s one of my favorite memories of him,” she whispered. Then she propped herself up on one elbow.

“You remind me of him,” she said, gazing at me intently. “A lot. But you’re also very different. He had more drive and ambition than you do right now.” She placated me with a gesture. “I see it in you, but it’s not ready to come out yet. You haven’t figured out what you want to do with your life, and right now, that’s okay.”

I nodded.

“But you’ve got a ... a complexity Jack never had. He wasn’t simple, quite the contrary, but we lived in a black and white time. His choices were all fairly straightforward. Duty. Honor. Loyalty. Family. When Jack made a decision, it was based on ‘the right thing to do.’ You’ve got the same sense of what’s right, but your choices aren’t quite as clear-cut as his were. You have to think about what’s right and then decide to do it. So while you’re very much like Jack—and sometimes it’s eerie how similar you are—you’re also very different.”

Then she looked at me seriously for a long moment, neither of us speaking. At last, she laid her head on my chest and rubbed my stomach. Eventually, her hand drifted lower. When she traced a finger over my penis, I rolled her onto her back and then straddled her hips.

“Sometimes,” she said, reaching for my manhood once again, “you’re just like he was.”

She stroked me until I was hard, fondling my balls as she did. Then she had me scoot up so she could suck me. As I supported myself with my hands on the wall above her bed, she took her time and sucked me slowly. Occasionally, she put her hands on my ass and pulled my hips toward her face, swallowing my length.

Before I came, I moved between her legs again. She was wet and ready for me, and pulled me close when I entered her. We rocked together in a comfortable rhythm, both of us building toward our climax. Afterward, we lay panting, simply enjoying our embrace. Finally, I curled up behind her, my arms around her, and we drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, our last together for the summer, we got up early and padded onto the back porch. In the early morning light, we sat together in silence, enjoying the heady fragrance of the pine forest and the sweet, soft scent of the jasmine.

The trip home to Atlanta was as boring as ever. We arrived—tired and cramped—at a house that had been dormant for almost three months. The air inside was stale, hot, and stuffy.

I called Amy the day after we got home, but I put off meeting with her, explaining that I had a ton of work to do around the house. It was a thin excuse, and I don’t think she really accepted it, but she didn’t press the issue.

As we worked around the house, I discovered I had a problem; none of my clothes fit me anymore. All of my shirts were either too tight or simply too small altogether. Even my shorts and jeans seemed tight. I was positive that Mom had secretly washed my entire wardrobe in hot water. When she discovered me in my room, standing in a pair of briefs that were too small—and way too revealing—she couldn’t suppress her laughter.

“You’ve grown,” she said, still chuckling.

“How?” I moaned. “I’ve been eating right. I’ve been working out. How could I have gotten bigger?”

“Honey,” Mom said, “you’re still growing. And you’ve gained muscle. Your chest is bigger. Your shoulders are bigger. I think your stomach’s the only thing that’s actually smaller.”

Before I could open my mouth, I had a frightening thought. Almost in a panic, I ran into the bathroom and pulled out the scale. When I stepped onto it, my jaw dropped.

I weighed 179 pounds!

When I eventually calmed down, I turned gloomy. But instead of letting me obsess over it, Mom tugged me in front of the bathroom mirror (still in my very, very tight underwear) and stood next to me.

“Paul, your weight’s not important,” she said. “How you look and feel are the only things that matter.”

“But, Mom,” I practically whined, “what about all my clothes?”

“We can buy you new clothes, honey.”

“What about wrestling? How am I gonna lose twelve pounds?”

“There are other weight classes,” she said.

“Yeah, 185 and Heavyweight!”

“So? You can wrestle at 185.”

“No, I can’t,” I explained, as patiently as I could. “Bruce Bollinger is our 185-pounder, and he’s a lot better than me. Besides...”

“Besides?”

“Besides... , “ I continued, then faltered again. “Oh, yeah. He graduated last year.”

“Then I’m sure Coach Simmons is looking for a new 185-pounder,” she said, ending the discussion.

After that, we spent an agonizing three days replacing my wardrobe. Three days with Mom and Erin, shopping for clothes, were almost more than I could handle. With their help, though, I got a lot of cool new outfits for school.

Because Mom was buying so much for me, Erin got a lot of new clothing as well. Dad groaned when he learned how much we’d spent, then promptly said he was going to look in the newspaper for a second job. He was teasing, of course, but it still made me realize how much our parents spent on Erin and me.

In addition to everything else we had going on, Mom and Dad insisted that Chris move into our guest bedroom. He’d already been working in Atlanta for a few days and was living in a hotel. He liked his new job, especially the challenge of building a team and developing shows.

And after we finished shopping for clothes, I knew I couldn’t put off meeting with Amy any longer. I wanted to keep avoiding it, but when I dodged a second phone call, Mom gave me a disapproving look.

So I called Amy back and asked her if we could meet. She seemed oblivious to any problems, and was eager to see me. I borrowed Mom’s car and drove over to Amy’s house. It felt like I was driving to my own funeral. When I rang the doorbell, she opened the door and practically leapt into my arms, showering me with kisses. Then I drove us to the Baskin Robbins near her house.

The conversation did not go well. Over ice cream, I tried to explain my thoughts, but I sounded like an idiot, even to myself. I told her I cared for her, very much, but I didn’t think we could be a couple anymore. I had already decided not to mention Gina, since I didn’t want to use her as an excuse. If I did, I knew Amy would think I might get back together with her if I broke up with Gina. And whether I was with Gina or not was beside the point.

Once again, Amy tearfully apologized for our fight. She promised to do anything I wanted. She promised to change anything about herself that I didn’t like. I told her there was nothing wrong with her, we just couldn’t be together. She didn’t understand. At first, she seemed lost. But as she slowly realized I wouldn’t be tempted, begged, wheedled, convinced, or cajoled into a relationship with her, she turned nasty. Since we were in a public place, I thought she wouldn’t make a scene.

I was wrong.

Her ice cream cone hit my chest and splattered across my shirt, covering me in sticky, melting ice cream. Then, at the top of her lungs, she screamed at me that I was a worthless asshole and she never wanted to see me again.

Needless to say, the other patrons of the ice cream shop were completely nonplussed, simply staring at her in shock as she stormed out the door. As I hastily followed her, I tried to clean myself up. But I was more worried about her than anything else. When I got outside, she was already stalking toward the pay phone at the gas station next door.

I offered to take her home. She told me to leave her alone. I pleaded with her to let me take her home. She told me to drop dead. I tried reasoning with her. She told me to fuck off. I may be slow on the uptake, but I know when I’m not wanted.

While she made her call, I walked back to the station wagon. No matter how angry she was, I wasn’t going to abandon her. While she glowered at me, I waited fifteen minutes, until a car pulled into the gas station. I recognized Tony Malone and Becky Leonardi. Amy got in, slammed the door, and they took off in a screech of tires. Becky flipped me the bird as they did. With a sigh, I started Mom’s car and drove home.

Later that night, I called Scott Anderson.

“So, man,” he said, “good to hear from you. You survived your summer?”

“Yeah. My aunt’s place is nice.”

“That’s cool,” he said. I could almost hear the anticipation in his voice. “So,” he asked, “you broke up with Amy?”

“You heard?”

“Yeah. Shannon called a while ago. Becky called her.”

“Super,” I said in resignation.

“Yeah. Becky’s already stirring up trouble,” he said.

“And the hits just keep on comin’.”

“Becky’s a bitch,” he said. “She’s got Tony so whipped, he doesn’t know which way is up.”

“You wanna hear my side of it?”

“Don’t need to.”

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“You didn’t hit her?”

“No.”

“She’s not pregnant?” he asked.

“God, no.”

I could almost hear him shrug over the phone. “Then I don’t need to hear what happened.”

“Oh.”

“I know you. I know you wouldn’t screw her over just for fun. If she’s not the girl for you, then she’s not the girl for you. If she can’t handle it, that’s her problem.”

“Thanks, Scott,” I said.

“No problem, man. Shannon said Amy was a little psycho anyway. I mean, after that ... um ... you know ... problem last year.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said sullenly.

“Yeah, sorry. But Shannon said Amy was gonna be trouble back then.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“‘Cause you two seemed happy. I thought Shannon was nuts, but she was right.”

“Yeah.”

“Shan hasn’t said ‘I told you so,’ but she knows I’m gonna pay attention next time she tells me something like that.”

“Well,” I said, “next time, tell me too.”

“It’s cool, man. So, do we need to find you another girl? What about Eileen Cooper. She’s got a hot bod. Nice tits, too. I think Shannon was in her English cla—”

“No way, man,” I said a little too quickly. Then I explained about Gina and her family moving to Atlanta.

“You mean Gina’s for real?” he asked, somewhat astounded.

“What? You think I made her up?”

To my surprise, he chuckled. “Shan called that one too.”

“Huh?”

“I thought you were making up the whole ‘beautiful girlfriend in another state,’ but Shannon said you weren’t.”

“You really should listen to Shannon more,” I said, trying not to sound too caustic.

“You got that right, buddy,” he replied. “Anyway, when’s she get here? Gina, I mean.”

“I have no clue. Things are kinda crazy around here. And they’re probably even worse with her family. You know, since they’re packing and moving from Charleston.”

“No kidding.”

“So I don’t know. Before school, though.”

“Cool,” he said. “‘Cause there’s this party s’posed to be the Friday before school starts. At Don Meeker’s grandparents’ barn. You up for it?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Then he paused for a few moments. “So, what’ve you been up to?”

I told him a little about my summer, but not much. Just the mundane stuff. I also told him about buying new clothes, and probably having to move up a weight class.

“Hey,” he said, “that’s actually good news.”

“Huh?”

Then he told me about talking to Coach Simmons over the summer. Evidently, some new guy and his family had moved down from Ohio. The new guy was a 167-pound wrestler.

“Do you know anything about him?” I asked.

“Coach said he was fifth in the state when he was a sophomore. That was last year. Coach was also telling me about wrestling in Ohio. Man, those people are some serious wrestling nuts. This guy started when he was six.”

“No shit?”

“No shit, man. He’s been wrestling for ten years. So that’s why I was talking to Coach. He wanted to know if I knew how to get in touch with you. I think he was gonna try and get you to bulk up and take over Bruce’s weight class.”

“Well,” I said, “he doesn’t have to worry. I weigh 179.”

“179?! Man, you must be a tub,” he said, the grin evident in his voice. “What’d you do all summer at your Aunt’s, eat bonbons?”

“No, man,” I said. “I was working out.”

“Sure you were. Now you’re gonna tell me you look like that German guy. What’s his name? Schwarzenegger! Yeah, Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

“Seriously. I was working out.”

“Right. Whatever. You were what, 155 when you started wrestling last year?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“And now you’re 179? You’re a tub, man. I had to eat night and day to stay above 140, and you come back from vacation all heavyweight on me.”

He continued to tease me for a while, and I was defensive at first. Then I realized he was just trying to get a rise out of me, so I stopped worrying about it. He’d see the truth for himself soon enough. I invited him over to hang out, and he accepted. When he arrived, his eyes nearly bugged out.

“Shit, man,” he said. “You are Schwarzenegger! Coach is gonna have kittens when he sees you.”

“Well,” I said with a grin, “I’m not Shannon, so ... I told you so.”

When we stepped inside, Mom said hello to Scott and volunteered to fix us Cokes. After that, we hung out in the living room. He told me all about the goings on of the summer. Our friend Kelly Duchesne now had a serious girlfriend, Livy Phelps. I knew of her, but I hadn’t ever talked to her. She was a cute blonde who was a year younger than us. Scott and Shannon had been out with them a couple of times, and Livy sounded like a nice girl.

“So, I know about Tony,” I said, mentally writing him off, “but what about Scotty?”

“Oh, man, you haven’t heard? Oh yeah, that’s right, you’ve been gone since right after school got out.”

“What happened?”

“His family moved to Phoenix, Arizona, man. Two months ago, I think. His dad’s company transferred him.”

We reminisced about Scotty for a while, but then Scott had to go. He had to stop by Shannon’s house on the way home. He wanted to tell her about Gina, and about how much I had changed.

“Shannon’s gonna freak when she sees you,” he said at the door. Then he held out his hand. “Hey, man, it’s good to have you home.”

“Thanks,” I replied, gripping his hand. “It’s good to be home.”

“With Tony and Becky being so stuck up, Shan and I have been kinda avoiding them. Kelly and Livy are fun, but Livy’s mom won’t let ‘em go out more than once a week. So I’m glad you’re back. And now we can finally meet the make-believe girl, Gina.”

“Something like that,” I said with a grin.

“Cool. Well, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“‘K. I’ll talk to you then.”

“Damn,” he said, shaking his head as he walked out to his old Buick. “179!”

Elizabeth came to visit a few days later. She and Chris spent the entire weekend with a realtor, looking at houses. They didn’t find a single one that fit all their criteria: four to five bedrooms, three or more full bathrooms, a pool or hot tub (preferably both), located in our school district, which cost less than a small fortune. We lived in a pretty nice neighborhood, so a lot of nearby houses fit most of those criteria, but some of them were really expensive.

They did find one house, but it was only for rent. They talked it over Sunday night and decided to rent the house for one year, then continue their new home search at a more leisurely pace. The rental house had four bedrooms, three baths, and a hot tub (but no pool). When they told us where it was, I realized it was in Scott Anderson’s subdivision.

Then Chris and Elizabeth called home to tell the girls about it. Afterward, they let me talk to Gina. She sounded tired, but was happy to talk to me. She said they’d been packing almost day and night. The third time she yawned, I told her I loved her and said goodnight.

Before Elizabeth went back to Charleston, she, Chris, and my parents sat down and planned their schedules. Dad had a set of trips to fly, so he’d be in and out of town on an irregular basis. Chris, of course, was working hard at his new job with the news station. That left Mom and Elizabeth to do most of the actual coordinating.

The Coulters already had a buyer for their house, so they needed to be out of it by the end of August. Unfortunately, their new rental house wouldn’t be available until the day after Labor Day. They planned to spend a few days living in a hotel, thinking that all four of them would be an imposition on my family. Mom and Dad didn’t even argue about it, they simply insisted that the Coulter family stay with us. With that, the discussion was effectively closed, but I could tell that Chris and Elizabeth were relieved.

After that, Elizabeth flew back to Charleston. Because Chris was living with us, we got regular updates on their progress with the move and sale of their house. I talked to Gina almost nightly. We could only talk for five or ten minutes, but we made the most of the time we had.

Gina’s and my parents had talked it over and decided that since the Coulters were only staying with us for four days, it would be all right for Gina and me to sleep in my bedroom. Chris and Elizabeth would stay in the guest bedroom, of course, and Leah would sleep in Erin’s room. So Gina and I had even more reason to be eager for her to arrive.

The Coulters closed on the sale of their house the final week of August. Chris flew to Charleston for the day, signed the papers, then returned to Atlanta. They also bought a used Chevy Monte Carlo for Kara and moved her into an apartment near campus.

Finally, the professional movers arrived and packed all the family’s belongings in a large moving truck. It was due to arrive at their new house the day after Labor Day, September 4.

Elizabeth, Gina, and Leah drove in from Charleston at the end of August. They arrived late in the evening after a long and exhausting trip. Gina hugged me tiredly and then practically stumbled into the house. Dad was gone on a trip, so Chris and I unloaded the heavily laden station wagon.

When we had everything inside, we all sat around and talked for a while instead of going to bed. But after about fifteen minutes, Erin and Leah retired for the night. One minute, they didn’t seem tired, and the next, they were both yawning and telling us goodnight. Gina and I lasted a little longer, but not much. She hugged her dad and then her mom. I kissed Mom’s cheek and then took Gina’s hand.

Before I led her toward my room, Mom and Elizabeth made sure we understood that these were special circumstances, and we normally wouldn’t be allowed to spend the night together. When we nodded our understanding, they told us goodnight.

I had cleared out my top dresser drawer and a section of my closet for Gina, but she didn’t bother unpacking. Instead, her eyes came alight as soon as my bedroom door was shut. Then she flowed into my arms. I wrapped my arms around her as she hugged me tight, her head on my chest.

Then we undressed and climbed into bed. It felt a little weird, but it also felt grown-up, like we were a married couple or something. Both of us slept in the nude, so we simply crawled under the sheets. She lay with her head on my chest and idly ran her fingers over my stomach. Then she reached down and fondled me until I was erect.

For a while, she stroked my hard-on, but she kept nodding off. Finally, she fell asleep for good, so I gently rolled her to her side. Then I snuggled behind her and closed my eyes, nestling my dwindling erection against her ass.

As I’d already discovered, sleeping with someone took some getting used to. I woke up a couple of times during the night, bound up in the sheets or with my arm asleep. Each time, I either untangled myself or gently moved my arm out from under Gina, then went back to sleep. In the morning, after I’d finally gotten a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, I was a little annoyed at being awakened.

My irritation quickly faded, however, when I figured out that Gina was playing with my morning hard-on. When she realized I was awake, she flashed me a brilliant smile and then disappeared under the sheet. As she licked around the head of my cock, I threw the covers back.

I came fairly quickly, but Gina didn’t immediately swallow. Instead, she glanced at me, smiled tightly, then opened her mouth to show me the small white lake of semen. With another tight grin, she stroked my erection a couple of times and then dribbled the come onto my shaft. Then she cleaned my still-hard dick, licking her sperm-covered fingers as well. Finally, she began sucking me again, taking her time and enjoying herself. It took me a while to come the second time, but she didn’t seem to mind.