So I just sat on my rear, spread my legs out and kept stroking it. They scooted a little closer, about a foot away from me, and began stroking my righ... thigh. My cock jumped at their touch, and they giggled as it did, so I grabbed it again, got up on my knees, situated myself in front of them, and let it get harder and grow more before their eyes. They just stared blankly at it as it sprung up, slowly, jumping when I squeezed down, they never offered to touch it, so I didn't ask. I grabbed it. We are alone. And soon it will all stop. No more greeting cards. No more me nor you. So stop thanking some poor man who got nailed to death some thousands of years ago! You always laugh at the way I throw away greeting cards without opening them. They don’t serve a purpose, you know, and I prefer to hear people call on the telephone. This year, your Mother cancelled all her plans to be with you. How people make plans when their families distance them! The two of you probably had a moment alone. More

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