Once upon a time, there was a little girl. Actually, she was 35 years old. I was 38. Anyways, so once upon a time in my apartment, we had been smoking some good Humboldt County shit, and it seemed that life could not be more fun. She was reclining on my Love Sac…
(Let me clarify: At the mall there are these huge modern bean-bag chairs (foam, actually) and they are very comfortable… they call them Love Sacs. What did you think she was lying on, anyway?)
… so she was reclining on my Love Sac… almost immobilized because you sink into it… and I was straddling her. We were both fully clothed at that point.
The kissing was intense. She was so-so as a kisser, but she was sensitive, and receptive to my seductive kissing. This wasn’t our first night together, so she knew what she had to look forward to that night. I was counting on that memory, and was using it to crank the heat. She was a better kisser than most women I’d been with recently, so I certainly enjoyed myself. Better kissers are easier to seduce, because they understand the subtleties and I can sense how hot a good kisser is getting.
She got hot. I could tell she was hot, because my left knee was pressed between her legs, and I could feel the hot, moist denim fabric of her jeans against my leg. So I wedged my knee up harder, and startled a moan out of her.
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