“Hey!”“Hey! Weren’t you the guy who clicked the pics?”“Yes, that’s me.”“Well, I misplaced my camera and I don’t know what to do,�... said she with crying emoticons.“That’s sad. Don’t be upset. I’m sure you’ll find it. Why don’t we relax ourselves over a coffee,” I said.“Sure,” was the instant reply.So we went out for a coffee and chit chatted along. All this while I was in a trance as to the woman I fantasized is now by my side.“Would you have like some time?” she asked.“Sure, what’s on your. "Now take it out," he said, as I slowly unzipped his pants. He was wearing white underwear as I drew his cock out and stared at it, totally mesmerized. "Now stroke it," he said, as he placed my hand on his hard cock. I wrapped my little girl hand around it, making a fist as his hand was now over mine, stroking it up and down, slowly. I was wondering about the friction of my hand, and if it felt good to him. I was also wondering why he was helping me. Was I was holding it correctly? Was my hand. One Saturday morning in July my dad told me to go work in the cellar and explained to me what I had to do. I had been down there about an hour when Margaret called my name. I answered and went to meet her. She asked me where all the clean tablecloths were and I told her the last room down to the right, as there were about ten rooms in the basement. She said that she would not go down there on her own, as there was no light. I put the light on which supplied the room and walked down with her.. There in the dark, I leaned against the side of her house. With thoughts of a big cock hanging between her legs and the scent of her perfume still in the air, I stroked myself.Until, I heard the words, “Hmmm, what are you doing?” The tone told me think that it wasn’t a question. She already knew. The voice was soft and feminine, but I could sense something else in her voice also. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” What else could I say? She stepped closer and my cock began to throb even harder. I had never.
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