Then we’d hunker down and hug while gasping for air.Our hearts beating against each other; my hands fondling his loins. His cock snuggled in its she...th, seemed to have a life of its own; sometimes peeping out provocatively; causing my snatch to squeeze and juice with desire!Then that summer Uncle Brad had come to live with us!What Brad had meant to mother was a mystery to me at the time but surprisingly I’d found Brad quite fun around the house: I suppose I fancied Brad a bit. I’d asked Brad. I thought for a few seconds, nodded, and told her: ‘absolutely’. I played “Thank Heaven for Little Girls.” Truth be known, it sounded better when Maurice Chevalier sang it, but the little girl laughed, clapped, gave me a wet kiss on the cheek, and thanked me for ‘her song’.I begged off more songs for the night telling them I’d been playing most of the afternoon and my fingers were sore. I sat back sipping coffee, listening to the evening conversation, and answering questions that came my way.In. More

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