“Mum says I shouldn’t have more than two cups a day and I’ve already had at least four.”“Well I’m going to have one. Would you like someth...ng else?” I reeled off a list of options and Mel declined them all until I offered chocolate. I nuked a mug of milk in the microwave, then watched as Mel helped herself to drinking chocolate powder and sugar in case I needed to replicate her choices.I found myself thinking about Mel as I sat there, studying her while I sipped my coffee. Her deprived. I knew that there would never be anything between Suzanne (John's mom) and I . She was 5'6" and had the most amazing body. Well that's what I thought anyway. One day I was headed over to John's house for a dip in his pool. I knocked on the door. Suzanne answered the door in a towel and her bathing suit. "Oh, hey Dave! Sorry but John got called in to work a while ago!," she said. "He didn't text me about tha- oh damn it, my phone is dead!" I replied. "Well he should be back in about an hour, why. Stephanie was now lubing up the dildo with some sort of gel. Based on how easily she slipped into his ass, she had been lubing him up in the office as well before they came out. As she was making these gentle in and out motions to get deeper into his ass, he was grunting and blowing puffs of air out. The grunting turned into squeals when Stephanie grabbed the rope from between his legs and pulled it up, using it as leverage to squeeze deeper. I hadn't noticed, but before they came out, they. That fucking guy practiced the shit out of emergency situations, all the time. He wrote about them, gave speeches about them, taught other pilots about them. For all I know, once a month he'd be screwing his wife and she'd yell out "mid-air collision, number 2 engine is out, hydraulics are gone, what do you do?" and he'd have to answer before she'd finish him off.Anyway, whatever his technique, that cool handed fucker splashed down like he was flying a seaplane. The biggest problem they had (I.
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