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"Hold, Gil, right there. Let me get used to it." I complied with a low, pleading moan, pulsing wildly inside the first asshole ever to grip the head of my erection. Nerve endings I didn't know I possessed screamed for me to move, but I listened to Joanna Hathaway, who a scant half-hour prior to positioning herself prone on the floor and offering me her ass to plunder, had unbuttoned my plaid shirt and pilfered my virginity with a sweet vengeance.

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"So?" Betty Simmons stared across the lunch table at her friend, Carol Whyre. Carol had taken a bite of her egg salad sandwich and was chewing thoughtfully, smiling as she purposely ignored her friend. "So?" "So, what?" "So what's it like?"

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