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And David watched me undress, and when my little shorts outfit was gone and my panties were gone and my bra was gone and I was standing at the foot of his bed, naked, with nothing adorning my body -- no watch, no ring -- nothing... He looked at me with an amazing expression of love and lust and I didn't worry about my withered leg or my body's asymmetrical appearance as I stood there, waiting for him to reach out to me, and touch me -- really for the first time, face-to-face, with both of us knowing exactly what we wanted.And knowing what both of us wanted was exactly the same thing.And I knew I didn't give a damn what my father would think. I didn't give a damn what my mother, or my brother, or anybody else would think. Jessica Wainwright? She'd probably tell me I could do better.Well. My roomy back in Arlington, Patsy Fischer, would approve. Approve? Ha! Patsy would jump Davey's bones her own self, if I gave her half a chance, which I didn't intend -- ever -- to do!But who cared. Andrew groaned and I shuddered, a series of small orgasms wracking my body. Panting, my head dropped and I opened my eyes. Between my legs I could see the wet patch on his boxers and I almost laughed. Why on earth is this called dry humping? I wondered. Continuing to thrust and grind my hips back and forth, the patch appeared and disappeared and appeared again. My breasts rhythmically obscured my view. Suddenly Andrew's hands were on them, gripping my nipples tightly and pulling me down to kiss him. Hungrily I slid my tongue into his mouth as my rock-hard nipples pulsed, two hard thickened points of pleasure directly connected to my clit. Bringing my hands up to hold his face, I sucked his tongue into my mouth, pressing my lips hard against his. When he released my nipples, I rushed headlong into another series of small orgasms. Grunting and jerking, I had never felt hornier. Pressing my tingling breasts against him, I moved my body from side to side, stimulating my nipples on hairs.
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