The feeling that determines what’s there and what will never be. His hand crawls up my thighs, across the trails of my pelvis, over my stomach, up ...o my neck, and then up to my face. It feels so good, yet so bad. This is the part that’s dangerous. The part where our hands wander, trickle of the edge of your jeans, skip over the top of your underwear. This is the part that drives you crazy with anticipation of what’s going to come next. This is the time when you close your eyes and let the. "Sure!" we said together."Are you doing better Mom?" Melissa asked."Yes, dear – much better, Rule One – no coitus whenever your father and I are in the house!" she started."What's that?" Melissa asked me."It's a parents word for hooking up, sis!" I answered as dad chuckled. Mom glared at us all."Rule Two – you 'can' express yourselves openly around us, but not around anyone who doesn't already know – Who knows?" mom asked."Only Wally, who is doing his senior thesis on us," I explained."What do. More

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