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It was four guys from the football team." FOUR guys!? My goodness, Tanya. Quick ... come upstairs and tell me what happened. We need to get you cleaned up." Oh, but Mom. Bobby all ready took care of that," she turned to me and grinned, "He's terrific, mom!"I wanted to die. I prayed for a lightning bolt to strike me dead."What do you mean, darling?" C'mon .. let's go upstairs. I'll tell you all about it.* * *I waited downstairs for the longest twenty minutes of my life. I tried to listen to what Tanya was telling her mother upstairs, but all I could hear was muffled voices and the occasional shriek of surprise. I thought I heard giggling once or twice, but I could hardly imagine that Mrs. Kohmfetter would find any of what happened today amusing.In my nervous state, I had finally taken to browsing the photos on the fireplace mantle when I heard Tanya's mother's voice behind me."Bobby."I whirled in surprise, "Oh! Hi, Mrs. Kohmfetter. Um ... where's Tanya." My girlfriend was nowhere to. The bottom of my T-shirt half covered it. And just then, I felt a hand on my butt cheeks.My soul left my body, travelled to the moon and came back just then! At that moment, I came to know what I was missing. His hand pressed against the crack of my sexy ass. I closed my eyes and felt each of my body’s sensations. He turned around and put his hands around my ballsack to continue his search.His face looked a little bit lost by this time. It was not surprising as any man would go crazy from the sight of my ass. He said, “I need to check further. Put your undies down, bend down and spread your legs.”By this time, I would have done anything this hunk would have ordered. I quickly turned around, removed my undies, bent forward and spread my legs. He was probably trying to see if I was hiding the iPhone in my asshole.Though I knew by that time, he was just looking at a hole that could take him to cloud nine. He asked me to turn around, and I saw that my dick was standing in full power and.
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Sort of displacement therapy.” And they both laughed. She saw him to the door. He hesitated, his hand upon the handle. “Look,” he said, “I expect there’s some deep and binding laws against it, but could I phone you sometime? I mean I’d like to see you again, but not, er, professionally, if you know what I mean.” She almost laughed at the look on his face. Like a guilty schoolboy looking for mercy but expecting none. “Mr Farmer!” she said, and thought she saw him wince, “ It’s 818213. Can you remember that or shall I write it down?” But Ben had beaten her to it, scrawling the number on the back of his hand. “I think I can manage, ” he replied, and left with a smile and a lighter heart. They met six times over the next two months. A few drinks in a fashionable Tapas Bar, a trip to the Cinema and dinner, twice. They had been wary of each other at first. Ben couldn’t get over the nagging feeling that she might analyse everything he said while Jane thought that he was editing every.

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