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So naturally, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her into her bedroom, setting her down on the soft bed and closing/locking the door. I wasn't finished with her by a long-shot. She sat up on the bed and looked at me, momentarily confused and still slightly dazed from the orgasm she'd just had. I took off my shirt and the look changed to one of knowing and then to pure lust as she yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. As she stood up to remove her pants, I kicked mine off and stepped up to her, my lips capturing her mouth as we kissed. She had her pants off in a heartbeat and I had her bra unclasped and my hands on her small (B-cups I believe) but soft and oh-so-perky breasts. She gripped my throbbing cock through my boxer-briefs and started rubbing me. It felt Heavenly as my balls practically hummed with testosterone and I wrapped my lips around one hard brown nipple, sucking it into my mouth as my tongue licked and lashed against it, my other hand squeezing and. So we chatted about other things, mostly small talk. Birthplaces, job stuff, the usual. Since I was almost ten years younger than both of them, and still in school, I felt like I didn’t have many ‘adult’ things to contribute, so I kept to universal topics like entertainment and sports. I didn’t pay attention to sports myself, but my dad was always complaining about one team or another. I could keep up. Dion was sweet enough to keep bringing things back around to me. I think he could tell I was still uncomfortable, and he was attempting to help me relax. We talked about my college experience so far, what my long-term goals were, and the scandalous story of how I met Mr. Chapman. I was proud of the cover-up story I had created where we accidentally got each other’s orders at a coffee shop and decided to sit down and chat. I never got that chance to tell it though because Mr. Chapman came clean right away. I guess it wasn’t really an embarrassing story for him. I was the one who got.
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