“I’m going to pull back the skin covering your clit. Like this,” Mr. Keller said and did. “Then I’m going to make my tongue nice and wet. Yo...’re going to have to figure out the narrative for yourself because my tongue’s going to be a bit busy,” Mr. Keller said and promptly started to flick his tongue on my clit. “Ohhh fuck me,” I groaned. Mr. Keller paused, “I love the enthusiastic invitation but you’re going to have to wait a few minutes.” I’m not sure how to describe the sound I made but I. He is a t-shirt and denim man with a closet full of canvas shoes. I find that I am enjoying the hole in his jeans just below the pocket on his right hip. I know there is tight nylon running briefs under them. The breeze is getting warmer and it pushes desires around in my head as it clears my line of sight. He is still at the bar. His tie is loosened and the collar of his white shirt is open. I hear the whine of a guitar and it reminds me of the shudders he sent through my being. Mark is. More

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