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But... I want to ask you first... are you still mad at me? I know I pissed you off, when I got mad about your date with Leticia. I'm really sorry I di... that."She paused and waited gingerly for the explosion from Dave."No, I'm not mad," Dave said, with obvious relief in his voice. "I thought you were still mad at me, for getting upset about you... living... with Bobby."Sammy visibly relaxed a little. But then she tensed yet again."Dave... I need to tell you some things. I'm afraid you're going. Laying and rolling around on his bed, with no one else home. our hands exploring each other’s bodies, our mouths locked him romantic kissing. Our hard cocks would touch as we kissed. Rubbing and grinding against each other, our abdomens would become slick from each other’s pre cum leaking cocks, making a slippery, sticky mess. It was wonderful. I layed back in his bed, leaning my back against his head board. David, although older than me, was usually shy in bed and found it to more comfortable. Your Dad had the kids.When you came in the door, you had a glow about you, not just the blood near your skin from running, but something more, something beautiful, and pure.I pulled you into my arms, and our lips met, hungry, wanting. Our tongues explored each others lips and mouths. I sucked on your tongue, like it was a piece of hot, sweet, jumping fruit. our tongues locked in a fever, darting in and out of each others mouths. I ran my hands down your back, caressing your warm body. I stopped. I might have that wrong, but it's something like that. In any event, I know oxygen is necessary. So how come I don't seem to need much oxygen?I don't get fatigued much either, not unless I'm exercising particularly hard. Part of fatigue is lactic acid (I remember that name), a waste product of muscle action. Why don't I get lactic acid buildup and need to rest while it dissipates? Whatever happens in me is very weird. GREAT for sex though
