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Subject: {ASSM} The Measure of Man, Chapter 12
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The Measure of Man is a story of love and sex in the lives of a husband, a
wife, and their three children. The story spans almost four decades in their
lives and tells of their love for each other and for individuals outside the
primary family. The sexual acts described vary greatly but all are within
the realm of those practiced by normal human beings. The Measure of Man is
an epic adventure and will be told in approximately forty chapters.
Twenty-five chapters (1,449 KB) have been completed. Additional chapters
will be published at no specific schedule.

Codes: MF FF mf Mf mF MM Mult fant rom 1st teen cons het group voy safe oral
anal pett lac preg

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gil_Gamesh/www/

Feedback is always welcomed. Use your scissors on my e-mail address to send
comments, criticisms, or requests to:

gil04gameshcutthisout@cox.net



THE MEASURE OF MAN

An Epic by Gil Gamesh	

12 - Man to Man

As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and
night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let
your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the
little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in
your embrace; for this too is the measure of man.

<><><>

CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Kieran Stuart, 26 in story, 19 in flashback
Sioned Stuart, 25 in story
David _____, 22 in flashback

TELLING THE STORY:
Kieran Stuart

The weather had been threatening when my wife and I went out to
dinner on Saturday night. The wind was blowing a cold mist of
rain that seemed likely to turn into snow. When we came out of
the restaurant, the first few flakes were beginning to fall.
Still later, when we came out of the movie, the night sky was
white with snow and the ground was already covered in places. We
were both chilled when we got back to our apartment.

"I'm going to take a hot shower and then put on my sweat suit," I
said. "Would you like to join me?"

Afterwards, we curled up together on the bed, with the lights
out, watching the snow swirl against the bedroom window.

<><><>

"It's your turn tonight," she said.

"For what?"  My mind was evidently not on the same thing as my
wife's.

"Tell me another bed-time story. You promised you would after I
told you about Nicholas and Sebastian."

"I think I'm beginning to run out of stories. You've heard my
best ones."

"Then make up one for me, a fantasy. I'll give you a leading
question or two and you must then take over from there."

"If you'll agree to do the same for me some other time."

"OK, I agree," she said. "Now, are you ready for the leading
questions?"

"Sure."

"Have you ever had sex with a man?  I don't mean just playing
around with other boys when you were little. I want to know if
you've ever really done it with a man after you were grown, after
you had already had sex with a woman."

"Are you sure you want to hear about it?" I asked. "You may never
know if it's a fantasy or if it actually happened. And I'm going
to warn you that you may learn things about me that you'll wish
you didn't know."

"I want to hear it. And I want you to tell it down to the last
little detail, just as you did when you told me about having sex
for the first time with a woman."

"His name was David," I began...

<><><>

I met David during my freshman year in college. I usually went to
the track and ran two or three times a week, for exercise and to
get rid of stress. On one occasion, he was there for the same
reasons and we ran together. We got to know each other and became
friends. At first, we just ran together, but gradually, we
started doing other things together, like movies and college
events. He had a girl friend and sometimes she went out with us.
She wouldn't go running with us however.

He was a senior, in a different major, so we never had classes
together. I'm not sure what made us such good friends but we were
alike in build, both slim and tall, like most good runners. Our
personalities were a lot alike and we seemed to like a great many
of the same things.

We had been running on a Saturday afternoon, an unusually warm
spring day. I suppose we both were enjoying the warmth and sun
and just being alive. We probably ran for close to six or seven
miles before we quit, twice around the running path behind the
gym, that goes through the woods near the river.

David suggested we get a six-pack of beer and a pizza and take
them back to his apartment. I was living in a college dorm and
had never been to his apartment. He had told me where he lived,
in a small apartment over a store that backed up to the river,
and had invited me to stop by more than once. We drove back in
his car without changing and stopped on the way for the pizza and
beer.

<><><>

We both pulled our shoes and socks off as soon as we were inside
his apartment and put our feet up while we opened the first of
the beer.

"Would it shock you if I took my shirt and shorts off?" David
asked. "I think I'm a closet nudist. I usually go without any
clothes when I'm here in my apartment."

He stood and pulled his shirt over his head and, almost in the
same motion, stripped his shorts off. I followed his example and
we stood, looking at each other.

We were very similar in some ways. We were both tall and slim,
with the sort of bodies typical to runners. But while I was fair
and blond, with relatively little body hair, he was the opposite.
His hair was dark, almost black, and always short and neatly
trimmed. On his chest, traces of black hair started near his
throat and spread outward over his chest toward his nipples. It
stopped before it reached his navel and reappeared in a black
explosion where it spread out over the base of his stomach and
between his thighs. His penis was long and slim, no larger than
normal, but strange to me in the midst of all the black hair. He
was also semi-erect, his cock hanging down but distended from the
heat and our exercise. I knew my testicles were hanging low, as
they always did when I was warm and sweaty from running; his were
drawn up so that half his cock dangled below them. I was glad to
see that he too was uncircumcised. I had always felt that most of
the circumcised cocks I had seen looked mutilated. As I watched
him, his cock began to lift upward into a full erection and I
could feel the same response in mine.

<><><>

"Would you like to stay here, tonight, with me?"

I had just taken a swallow of beer when David said that. I almost
choked but I managed to swallow. I waited for a minute, wondering
whether I had understood what he was saying.

"Are you asking me to sleep here?  Or are you suggesting more
than that?"

"I thought we might get around to sleeping, sometime tonight. But
there are other things I'd like to do first."

"Look, David," I answered, "we're good friends and I want to be
honest with you. I'm not a virgin. I've had sex with a one woman,
older than me, and with a few other girls about my own age. With
maybe one exception, I've never done anything with other boys or
men."

"Have you ever thought about it?  Ever wondered what it would be
like?" he asked.

"Sure, I'll admit to that. But I've spent my life around a man
and woman who loved each other and never tried to hide it. My
mother and father had a very open loving relationship. When I was
very little, I remember crawling in with them when they were in
bed, naked together. I still remember how they laughed when I
took my pajamas off and insisted on sleeping with them. When I
was a kid, I walked in on them lots of times, hugging each other,
with their hands on each other. As I got older, my father talked
to me honestly, and, gradually, I learned what they did together
in bed. My mother's attitude was the same, that it was the most
natural thing in the world for a man and a woman. Then just
before I was sixteen, an older woman taught me what sex could be
like between a man and woman. In one afternoon, she showed me the
kind of love and tenderness and satisfaction that I had been
looking for all my life. Since then, I've always known what I
wanted, a relationship like my mother and father have.

"I envy you that experience," he answered. "My parents tried to
teach me that sex of any kind was something to be ashamed of. I
don't know how, with their attitude, they managed to bring me and
my brother into the world."

"Until I find that sort of relationship, I sometimes think I
could fuck every woman on earth and never get enough of them.
Since I came to college, I haven't managed to do more than just
get a quick feel or two of any of them. The women on this campus
really turn me on. I think I must get a hard-on or two every day
looking at tits and ass on campus."

"I can understand that," David said. "I've been trying to get
Sarah to give in for months. She can't make up her mind, even
though we've talked about getting married when I graduate. I
guess I'm about as sexually frustrated right now as you are."

<><><>

He adjusted the water in the shower to a soft warm spray and then
motioned for me to get in. When I did, he turned the bathroom
light out before he got in and pulled the shower curtain closed.
The room was almost dark, dimly lit by the light coming in from
the street.

He put his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me under the
shower spray. I leaned forward, with my hands on the wall,
letting the water run over my face, wondering what he was doing
behind me. When I felt the soapy cloth on my back, I closed my
eyes and let him rub my shoulders. He stopped at my waist and
turned me around. This time, he scrubbed first my arms and then
my chest, again stopping at my waist. When he brought the cloth
to my face, I closed my eyes again. That experience, the way he
washed my face, slowly and gently, was probably the one thing
that caused me to make up my mind. I still kept my eyes closed
when he poured shampoo on my head, washed my hair, and then
pushed me under the shower to wash all the soap away.

I wiped the water out of my face and looked at him. He was
smiling, knowing, I suppose, what I had decided.

"Turn around again, now, and let me wash the lower half," he
said.

This time, he knelt behind me and started with my feet, pulling
to get me to lift first one and then the other. Gradually, he
moved upward, scrubbing my legs, finally reaching my ass. I let
him wash me, trying to relax even when I felt the soapy cloth on
one buttock and his hand on the other. When he turned me around,
I watched while he washed the front of my legs, gradually moving
upward toward my genitals. He held my penis with one hand,
pulling the foreskin back, while he scrubbed the head with the
soapy cloth. I felt an immediate reaction and began to get an
erection. He dropped the cloth, stood up, and held me with both
hands, my balls with one hand and my cock with the other. We both
watched while my cock came to full erection in his hand.

I pushed him away and stooped to pick up the washcloth. I
followed his example, taking my time in scrubbing him all over,
waiting until last to wash his genitals. When I took his cock in
my hand it was semi-tumescent but, as I stroked it with the soapy
cloth, it quickly became erect. The head of his cock was just an
inch or so from mine.

We both stood looking down, in all honesty, comparing our cocks.
He stepped closer to me and brought his against mine.

"That's some cock you've got," he said.

I reached down and, with both my hands, held them together. I
slid my soapy hands back and forth, slowly masturbating both of
us at once.

"I think we'd better get out of the shower," he said.

<><><>

When we came out of the bathroom, the moon was just coming up
over the river, almost full, filling the large living room with
soft light. I was almost blinded when he turned on the lights.

"Come, help me," David said. "I want to move the mattress off my
bed and bring it in here."

He led the way into the small bedroom.  Together we moved the
mattress off the bed, carried it into the living room, and laid
it on the floor next to the couch. David covered it with a soft
yellow and white blanket, almost a jungle print. He went to the
bathroom and returned with our damp towels. He dropped them
beside the bed and then lay down, on his side, his hard cock
pressed against the blanket.

"Lie down here, on your stomach," he said, smiling at me. "I'm
going to show you something that I learned from an English
professor here. It's just one of the things I learned from him.
And turn out the lights first."

I was uncertain what he meant, still not sure that I wanted him
or anyone else to get at me from behind, but admittedly curious
about what it would be like and whether I would like it if he
did. He must have sensed my apprehension.

"Relax," he said. "I'm going to give you a rub-down, a massage,
using nothing but my hands and a little baby oil. Remember I've
told you that you can tell me to stop at any point and I won't
try to get you to do anything you really can't handle."

I stretched out on the mattress, my head toward the window, the
moonlight pouring in directly on me. David knelt beside me and
started on my shoulders, alternating between deep pressing on the
underlying muscles and soft stroking on the skin. In only a few
minutes, I had surrendered to the touch of his hands.

But then he moved, straddling my body, and I suddenly felt his
balls against my buttocks, the hard length of his cock hot
against me. I involuntarily started to pull away, to resist, but
he put his hands on my waist and gently pushed me back down. When
I relaxed again, he resumed his massage of my back, pressing
hard, sliding his hands from my waist to my shoulders again and
again. After a few minutes, he reversed his position, straddling
my hips again, but facing my feet. He covered his hands with oil
again and rubbed the muscles of my legs. I could feel all tension
draining away. Finally, he slid back, straddling the middle of my
chest, this time, rubbing my buttocks. He stopped for a few
seconds, to put more oil on his hands, and then resumed. This
time, I realized that his fingers were moving ever closer and
closer to the center of my body, brushing lightly into the crack.
Finally, he reached down between my legs with one hand, the
fingertips pressing against the area just behind my testicles. I
spread my legs apart to give him easier access. He probed deeper
into the crack, finally teasing my asshole with one finger. At
first, I tensed again, resisting, but then, as he continued, I
realized that his touch felt good and that I was enjoying what he
was doing. I suppose he realized that I was giving in to him.
Suddenly he slid just the tip of his index finger into me and
held it there.

"Tell me, honestly, does that feel good," he asked.

"Do you mean the massage, or what you're doing now," I asked.

"I mean both," he said. "Your ass is just as capable of feeling
pleasure as the skin on your back."

"The massage felt great. But what you're doing with you finger is
new to me. It's an experience I've never had before."

He removed his hand and reached out, beside the mattress, for
something.

"Trust me," he said. "I'm not going to turn you in to a raging
homosexual. Open yourself to the pleasure we can give each other.
I think you'll find it will be a sexual experience you'll never
forget."

As he spoke, he squeezed something from a tube onto his finger. I
waited, watching, while he reached back to my ass. This time, he
applied the lubricant to my asshole and gradually began to
penetrate me again. I knew what he was doing and, even though, I
had accepted the idea of sex with him, I was still unsure whether
I could let him penetrate me with his cock. Still, as his finger
slid in and out, I felt my anal muscles relax and I gave in more
and more to the pleasure.

"Turn over," he said.

He wiped his hands on a towel and then coated his hands again
with oil. He started on my shoulders again, moved on to my chest,
skipped to my legs and, as I wanted so much, came as last to my
cock and balls. I noticed that he coated his hands this time with
a different oil, one that was fragrant, not at all like the
unscented baby oil he had used on my body.

"This oil is different," he said, and smiled. "It's made with a
vegetable oil and flavored. It tastes good."

He coated the head of my cock and moved downward, stroking the
shaft, and finally my balls. I closed my eyes and surrendered. At
that point, I would have let him do anything he wanted to me.

<><><>

At his directions, I tried to return the favor, giving him the
same sort of slow massage that he had given me. I doubt that he
received half as much pleasure out of it as I did.

"Now sit on the couch," he said. "Lean back and close your eyes
and be comfortable."

I did as he said. I heard him moving in front of me. He pushed my
knees apart and knelt between my legs. He took my cock in one
hand and I wondered what he intended now. When I felt his mouth
on the head of my cock, I froze, scarcely able to breathe.

Within a few minutes, I knew there would be no limits on what we
did with each other. A man gradually comes to know, no pun
intended, his own cock like no woman ever can, and what to do and
where to stroke, to bring the most pleasure. And David certainly
knew what to do with my cock.

<><><>

I stopped with my story for a minute, wondering whether to go on
with the next part.

"Well, are you going to finish?" my wife asked. "You can't stop
yet. This is fascinating."

"I'm not sure whether I should tell you the next part. It may
change the way you feel about me."

"How do you mean?"

"I know how most men feel about sex between men, especially oral
sex. One of the most contemptuous names one man can call another
is a cocksucker. I believe most men like to have it done to them;
they feel its O.K. for a woman to do it. But if another man does
it, especially if he likes to do it, they have nothing but scorn
for the cocksucker."

"But we both like oral sex. The best sex, to me, is plain
missionary-position fucking, when you've got your cock working in
my cunt like a piston. But oral sex is great too. I love to feel
your mouth on me. You know your tongue on my clitoris can give me
a wonderful orgasm."

"But how would you feel if I told you that same mouth and tongue
have been used on another man's cock?"

"I've had my mouth on yours more times that I can count. You love
it and you know you do. And I like it too. It gets me all hot and
wet to feel the head of your cock in my mouth, while I've got my
hands on your cock and on your balls. I'm not ashamed of it in
the least. And I've noticed that you never hesitate to kiss me
even after I've been sucking your cock."

"Then, I'll tell you the rest of it, down to the last little
detail, like you asked me.

<><><>

After a minute or so, I knew I was on the edge of coming, at that
point where my mind's reason whispered for me to slow down, to
prolong the pleasure, and my body's passion yelled for release.
At the last split-second, I pushed David away.

"You've got to stop," I said. "You're going to make me come if
you keep that up."

He stood up, looking down at me, with a knowing smile on his
face. He was standing just back from the edge of the couch,
between my spread legs. His cock was rigid, standing up at an
angle.

He stepped forward, just to the edge of the couch, still between
my legs, and as he did, he took his cock in his hand and held it
down, stoking it slowly, pointing it directly at my face. He
didn't say a word but I understood what he wanted.

I moved forward, still sitting on the couch, until my mouth was
only inches away from the head of his cock. He put both his hands
on my shoulders.

I put one hand on the base of his penis, pulling it back downward
into a horizontal position, and slid the other hand up his leg to
his testicles. As I looked at the head of his cock, I saw that he
was reacting the same way that I always did to prolonged sexual
arousal. At the narrow vertical slit on the end, that was a clear
drop hanging.

I leaned forward and, with my tongue, licked the single drop way.
I felt David shudder, just as I sometimes did at the release of a
long-delayed piss, and then I leaned forward again and took the
head of his cock in my mouth.

I held the shaft of his cock with one hand, his balls with the
other, sliding my lips stiffly up and down on just the last inch
of so of his cock. I remembered the first time my cock had been
sucked, one summer afternoon, and how much she seemed to relish
the pleasure she gave me. She had taken me eagerly, hungrily,
using her tongue and teeth and lips, seemingly sucking the very
marrow out of my bones. I determined to see if I could do the
same things to David. Within a couple of minutes, he was moaning
with pleasure. He stopped me, as I had stopped him, just short of
the point of no return.

<><><>

At his instructions, I knelt facing the couch and leaned over,
stretching my arms out on the cushions, cradling my head on my
forearms. When I spread my knees apart, he moved behind me and
put one hand palm-down on my back. With the other hand, he again
probed into the crack of my ass, spreading the lubricant all
around and gradually, as he pushed his finger in and out, brought
back the same pleasurable sensations I had felt earlier. I
waited, almost holding my breath.

When he moved closer, I may have had one moment of hesitation,
one last regret about what was about to happen. I felt just the
head of his cock push against me, gently, for a moment and then
the pressure was removed. He rubbed it up and down, coating it
with the lubricant, and then pushed against me. I tried to relax,
to let the muscles go slack, to accept his cock, and as I did, I
felt the head slide into me, easily, without any pain, as
naturally as though this had been done a thousand times before.

Slowly, oh, so slowly, he began to slide it in and out, holding
me lightly by both hips. My eyes were closed and I was conscious
of almost nothing except the feel of his hard cock sliding in and
out of my ass. Gradually, I felt him penetrate deeper and deeper,
the head of his cock pressing against something inside me that
made my cock respond with each thrust. He continued his slow,
gentle movements, for a few minutes and finally he accomplished
something I would not have believed possible: his legs were
pressed against the back of my thighs and his cock was buried to
the hilt inside me.

There have been a number of occasions in my life when I've
wondered how I allowed myself to get into such a situation. How
many times had I heard sneering remarks about boys or men who let
themselves be used like this?

But the simple fact was - it felt good. I had a hard-on that felt
filled to bursting. I felt a red heat inside my head and sweat
trickled down my face. Sexually I was aroused to a pitch I have
seldom experienced.

When he suddenly withdrew, I was surprised, wondering why when I
was fairly sure he had not had an orgasm.

He quickly changed his position, stretching out on the mattress,
in a semi-reclining position, leaning back against the couch.

"Get on top of me," he said. "I want to show you a trick my
mentor, my English professor, showed me when he introduced me to
this sort of fun."

With his guidance, I straddled his stomach facing him, my knees
on each side of him, my legs bent back along side him. I slid my
hands over his stomach and chest, feeling the combination of
sweat and oil.

"Lock your hands together behind my neck," he instructed, and I
did as he said.

He reached under me with one hand and held his cock upright. With
the other he gently pushed me back until I felt the head of his
cock pushing against me again. He adjusted it to the right spot
and pushed me back again.

I decided to help him and gradually began to press down, moving
from side to side a little. Again his cock slid easily into my
ass. This time, I continued with up and down movements, gradually
taking in more and more of it, until I knew most of it was inside
me. Within a minute or so, I was dripping sweat, as hot outside
as inside.

When he bent forward, curving his hands around behind my back, I
wondered what he was trying to do. When he took the head of my
cock in his mouth, I was amazed. In my wildest fantasy, I had
never imagined this sexual variation. I realized why he wanted my
hands behind his neck, to help him to bend this far forward and
to hold the position. I began to move up and down on him again,
feeling both the sensation of his hard cock moving in and out of
my ass and of my own hard cock sliding in and out of his mouth.

I began to use him solely for my own pleasure, pulling down on
his head, forcing my cock into his mouth, and at the same time,
forcing his cock deeper into my ass. I knew I was very close to
coming and I wondered if I should tell him.

Suddenly, I felt him tense underneath me, trying as best he could
to thrust his cock into me. I pushed back, taking it as deep into
me as I could and, as I did, I felt the contractions of his
orgasm inside me.

The knowledge that he was coming inside me, combined with the
feel of his cock pressing against some sensitive spot inside me,
triggered my own orgasm. Without knowing what I was doing, I
pulled his head forward, shoved my cock as deep in his mouth as I
could, and gave him a half dozen or so quick spurts of semen.

Either the head of my cock against the back of his throat or the
semen I deposited there caused him to gag. He pulled away from me
with all his strength, retching, spitting my come out over my
cock and balls and his stomach. Again and again, he spit it out,
until we were both wet with the combination of his saliva and my
semen. When he looked up at me, his face was flushed and his eyes
were red and wet with tears.

"You bastard," he said, and at the same time, slapped me across
the face with his open hand. When I caught my breath, I felt a
sudden surge of anger but quickly realized I had probably
deserved what he had done. Along with the stinging painful
sensation I felt in my cheek and nose, I also felt something warm
and wet begin to drip out of one nostril. When the drops began to
fall on my cock and on his stomach, I looked down and realized my
nose was bleeding. I pressed one finger against the nostril,
trying to stop the flow.

When I looked back at David, he was smiling, looking at my face
and then down at the mess we had both made. We were both drenched
with sweat, slippery with the oil we had spread over us. My
stomach and his, along with my cock and balls, were covered with
the white of his spit and my semen and the red of my blood. He
began to laugh, small spastic movements at first with low
chuckles, growing into uncontrollable and stronger movements and
laughter.

I couldn't help but respond the same way. When he pushed me off
the top of him, I fell back on the mattress and he rolled forward
on top of me, rubbing against me, both of us laughing
uncontrollably. He pinned me against the mattress and kissed me,
his mouth open, his tongue pushing into my mouth, the first time
I had ever been kissed like that by a man. I could taste sweat
and blood and semen.

<><><>

"It won't work," my wife said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It won't work. I know you're trying to make me show repugnance
at what you're describing. But if you really understood what a
woman lives with all the time, you'd realize that your story
isn't going to do it."

"I don't understand," I said, pretending innocence. "I'm not
trying to cause any sort of reaction in you. I'm just doing what
you asked. You wanted every last little detail of what it was
like to have sex with another man. You're getting it."

"You should know I'm not turned off by sweat. I couldn't count
the times you've been on top, fucking me, and I could feel the
sweat running off you and all over my breasts and stomach. I'll
even admit I like to taste you when you're sweating like that.
Why do you think you end up with all those love marks on your
shoulders?"

"Well, at least I don't spit on you."

"No, but I remember a few times when you were in a hurry to screw
me and you spit on the head of your cock, rather than take the
time to get my juices flowing."

I looked at her, pretending amazement, to think that she would
accuse me of something like that.

"Don't try to look innocent. I'm no more repelled by your saliva
than I am by my own. You know I love for you to kiss me. I know,
sometimes, you have your mouth on mine for minutes a time, with
your tongue in my mouth or mine in yours. And neither of us cares
whose saliva we're swallowing."

"Doesn't blood make you feel a little squeamish?" I asked.

"You should know better. If you had to live your life as a
sexually-mature woman, with a body that, every month, prepares a
place for one little fertilized egg to settle... And then every
month, if you had to contend with the mess that flows out... You
wouldn't worry about a little red blood on occasion.

"Semen?"

"Not even that. I've had your semen on my belly, on my breasts,
even in my mouth. It's not my favorite flavor, but when I'm hot
for you, it's a sexual turn-on to see your come spurt out on me
and to feel it hot and slippery on me. And when you come inside
me, what do you think happens to it?  It may be viscous when you
put it in, but it breaks down in a few minutes and those little
sperm go swimming merrily upstream, while everything else just
slowly runs downstream.

"You mean you're not disgusted by anything David and I did?" I
asked, really wondering whether she was or not.

"I haven't heard of much that you haven't done to me or I to
you," she said, looking me straight in the eyes, "and I know I'm
not disgusted by anything we do together."

"Are you sure you're not repulsed by anything I've told you so
far?"  I asked. "I'm not through with the story."

"Please, do go on. But I hope you know you've got me so hot
hearing all this that I'm going to fuck your brains out when you
get through with your fantasy."

"It's no fantasy. Everything I've told you really happened. And a
lot more happened after we had another shower and finished off
the rest of the beer and a bottle of wine. We finally quit with
each other just before dawn."

"Did you find any more variations as good as the last one?"

"Nothing quite so original. About one o'clock, we were curled up
sixty-nine fashion....

TO BE CONTINUED:






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