Pale milky white hands caressing and holding them out to me, an offering for my lips to lay over them while I would finger and stroke her swollen clit...until she would gush and cum in my hand. I imagine I would look up then to see her face.‘Oh Ruth.’ her name would slip softly from me so many nights, as I laid alone in my bed stroking a bare rock hard cock. Imagining a hand in place of mine jerking the foreskin up and over the head before lightly pulling it back down in such a professional. "There is a young man here to see you," the old lady said blandly. "I put him in the parlor. The same one as before, the one-armed boy. He has some coffee and crullers so don't hurry. And he brought me two pounds of scrapple." She smiled, looking, Anne decided, like the cat that ate the canary."His name is Fields," Anne told her, lifting her chin and trying to look uninterested despite being impatient to see him. "We've known each other for years. Didn't I tell you? Since we were children. I'm. More

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