One night, after I'd been there for about a month, I lay in the dark and listened to Chris coming for the second time that night. They seemed to be fi...ished -- or at least resting. My dick was standing at attention. I always tried to imagine how it looked when they fucked. It always got me hot and always got me off. After a few minutes of quiet, broken occasionally by whispers in their room, Chris's voice called, "Dave? You still awake?" I was torn between answering or pretending I slept so. “You’re doing all this shit, making moves, I try to kiss you and you move. I try to touch you and you stop me. I’m too old for this shit.” “Oh really?” she asked, as I saw her jaw clench with irritation. “Fine,” she said with some force, and pushed me against the wall. She walked over to the side of her bed, peeling her shirt off as she walked. She turned around and faced me with a look that would melt steel, showing me her pert little rack. Then unbuttoning her shorts, she dropped them to. More

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