What sort of person was I becoming? I knew my sexual urges were still getting stronger, and it seemed now that I was willing to be increasingly selfis... about satisfying them. I had some excuse for so much sex with Wendy — after all, the sternest moralist could hardly criticise me for desiring my wife — and I could plausibly tell myself that Connie (both times) and Kylie (the first time) had led me on shamelessly (not much of a justification, I know). But there was no excuse for what had just. The slipperiness of youth. She spread her legs, unveiling her pussy. “That’s so nice, Mrs. Shepherd.” She seemed to be whispering almost to herself. “Rub me right there. Please.” I slid alongside her on the bed, so she could lie on her back. Leaning on an elbow, our legs touching, I watched my fingers skim along her skin. I pressed three of them against her clitty and drew small circles. Except for quite a few freckles and some scratches on one leg, her skin was flawless. I stopped playing with. More

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