Like a painting that you see every day, her face her body now seemed to be etched into his very being! He laid back in the bed, wet and cold from his ...weat. He recalled to his memory the night so many years past. Way to much to drink, trying to keep his footing, talking to himself as he made his way home. He had tried to remember what caught his attention first, was it the scent that had drifted and mingled around him, the heavy smell of wet leaves mixed with the earth, at first not pleasing to. It's so taboo. It's so secret. It's so erotic. Little by little, Paul's hands left the cheeks and concentrated on that tight hole. He licked one finger, making it shiny and wet. Rubbing it over James' rosebud, I watched him put more and more pressure. It was like he was knocking at the door, asking for permission. Eventually, I watched that thick finger probe into his puckered anus. He pushed it in, up to the first knuckle. James groaned louder. He began to thrust against the table in rhythm. More

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