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Hockey Weekend in Boston
by HockeyMom
***
An incredibly "interesting" long weekend spent in Boston
recently, chaperoning my son and his friend to a hockey
tournament. Things didn't quite work out as planned,
especially when my husband canceled on me. (F/m-teen,
nc, anal, panty fetish)
***
I'm a forty-something hockey mom and I just returned
from an extremely interesting long weekend in Boston. I
had taken my fifteen year old son up there for a
tournament, along with one of his team-mates...
Being employed full-time with a teenage son who's a
reasonably talented hockey player can be a bit of a drag
at times. This time of year is one of the worst, as work
is busy, the local hockey schedule is busy and there is
often a weekend tournament to consider as well - and not
all of them are close to home.
This past weekend we had a tournament in Boston (I live
near Philly) and we (my husband and I) had offered to
take one of the other boys who also played on the same
local team as Greg (my son) up to Boston with us, as
Ben's father had two other kids at home to look after
and in order to be up there in Boston in time for the
7am game on Thursday morning, we would need to drive up
on the Wednesday evening.
So after Tuesday practice (you following all this?), I
brought Ben home with Greg to spend the night at our
house, so it would be easier to just leave whenever I
wanted on the Wednesday and head up straight to Boston,
where James (my husband) would meet us on the Friday
evening after he completed his work-week in PA. I was
taking the Thursday and Friday as vacation days.
It had been a while since we'd had Ben over our house,
but I made him up a bed in the basement and he pretty
much crashed as soon as he stumbled into it. It had been
a long day for all of us, especially for the poor kids
who had a double practice that evening.
*
Wednesday morning, I was up around my usual time and
went about my daily routine when I work from home. On
those days, I don't even shower until some point in the
afternoon, unless I have to go out earlier for some
reason. So I spent much of the day sitting in shorts and
t-shirt in front of the computers in my office. The boys
woke up mid-morning and I fixed them some food,
returning to my desk to try to complete my work for the
week before we had to leave.
Around 2pm or so, I decided I may as well take my
shower, dress and pack for the weekend. Our shower is in
the master bathroom, which is only accessible via the
master bedroom. Just as I turned off the water, I swear
I heard the bedroom door click. "Weird", I thought to
myself. "Maybe it's just the dog?"
I toweled myself dry and noticed one of the dogs on my
bed - that must have been it, I decided. Then I went to
pick up the shorts, t-shirt, bra and panties I'd been
wearing, to put them in the laundry hamper (I know, I'm
a slob - I really should have put them right in when I
took them off, instead of leaving them on the bathroom
floor) and stopped dead in puzzlement - my pale yellow
panties were NOT on top of the pile, yet I knew I'd
taken them off last.
I called the dog over and he sniffed the pile of
discarded clothing "Did you take my panties, boy?"
Obviously the dog just grinned at me with that goofy
"I'll do anything for you, if only I understood you"
expression on his face. I checked over the other side of
the bed, wondering if perhaps he'd dragged them around
the room a bit - no sign of them.
It wouldn't have been the first time I'd caught him with
a wad of worn panties in his mouth, but there were only
so many places he'd ever take them. Not a sign. Oh well,
on with the dressing and packing - they'd show up sooner
or later. In my relative naivety, I never imagined one
of the kids might have taken them...
Our drive up to Boston was uneventful - only one spot of
inclement weather and we made it in about five and a
half hours. For the first two nights, the three of us
would be sharing one room (two beds, of course), then
Ben and his father (and two other kids) would have a
separate room when James arrived to share ours on the
Friday evening. Greg and Ben shared one bed while I had
the other. The kids crashed almost right away and I
watched some TV for a while (hard to go to sleep
straight away after a long drive) before I turned it off
and turned in, too.
I thought I slept pretty well on Wednesday night, but I
did have the strangest dream. At least, I thought it was
a dream at the time, but in retrospect it was likely at
least partly for real. I imagined someone lifting the
covers from behind me (I tend to sleep on whatever side
faces the bathroom and in this case it was my right
side) and snuggling against me. This was not at all
unpleasant and didn't seem to bother me in the least. I
felt breath in my hair (I have long, chestnut-auburn
hair, down to just past my shoulders), gently stirring
the back of my neck. As I said, not an unpleasant dream
at all.
A light brushing of my upper arm made me shiver a tiny
bit, then I felt the weight of somebody else's forearm
on my bicep. Ahhh, James wants to snuggle, that's so
unlike him these days, but so nice... it's been way too
long...
The sensation of fingers very slowly and gently
caressing my left boob through the t-shirt I wore to
sleep. So tired, but yet my nipple didn't seem to
hesitate to stand to attention. Fingers stroking along
the top and bottom of my nipple, almost rolling it
between them. Not at all an unpleasant sensation, but I
was soooo tired "James, honey", I murmured in my sleep
"I'm sooo tired - can we wait a while?"
The fingers withdrew and I slumbered deeper.
*
Thursday morning came around way too early. We had to be
up and out by 5:30am for the 7am game. None of us
showered, as the boys could shower after the game and I
really didn't need one. As I stood in the bathroom
brushing my hair, I remembered the previous night's
dream and when I took off my panties to change them, was
mortified to feel how wet they still were from that
dream! I balled them up and tucked them into the bottom
of the laundry bag before rousing the boys and calling
them to action. Both buys seemed to take forever in the
bathroom (individually) - I had no clue until much later
what at least one of them had been up to in there.
We went to the game, had a good time (and a great game,
with a 12-0 thrashing of the other team) then had lunch
and decided to go to a movie to pass some time before
the evening game. The day passed quite uneventfully and
we played ok in the evening, but not quite as well as
the morning game.
We had a late dinner with several of the other players
and parents, then the kids went up to their rooms while
some of the parents (myself included) had a few drinks
in the hotel bar. I make a point of never drinking very
much in these situations - there is always at least one
sleazebag who will try to take advantage of a woman
there without her husband. By midnight, I'd only had
three beers and called it a night.
As I opened my room door, I heard a frantic, fumbling
noise from inside the bathroom. Sounded like someone was
rustling through a plastic bag. I heard the bathroom
door click shut as I pushed the main door fully open.
Greg was in bed, fast asleep. So it must be Ben in the
bathroom. Sure enough, he emerged after a couple
minutes, mumbled goodnight and slipped into bed. I had
to pee, so it was my turn for the bathroom and I was
going to change into my sleep clothes in there anyway.
As I was sitting on the toliet, I noticed my laundry bag
was most definitely NOT where I'd left it earlier in the
day. I finished, blotted, flushed and bent over to
investigate - someone had obviously been going through
the contents (I used to travel a lot, so had gotten into
the habit of a very specific routine for stashing worn
clothing). I dug a little and my fingers came in contact
with something wet.
I cringed as I slowly withdraw the panties I'd worn the
previous day. They were no longer balled-up, but were
randomly crumpled, with a sticky mess on one side. I
didn't want to believe what that mess was, but suddenly
my head spun as everything clicked.
Ben, my son's team-mate, had a thing about my panties.
He'd been jerking off into them and probably doing
goodness knows what else with them. Ugh! I rinsed them
in the sink, again and again, both disgusted and
humiliated at the same time.
The little perv - and he was only fifteen! On the other
hand, I could hardly approach him and tell him to
refrain from masturbating into my panties, could I? I'd
die of embarrassment! Same for asking his father - he'd
probably interpret it as a come-on line! Oh what to do,
other than ignore it and know this night would be his
last chance to mess with my underwear! He must have
taken the yellow pair while I was showering, too! He may
even have watched me shower! This was terrible.
I decided to take a quick shower if only for the feeling
of being cleansed from this, this, THIS. No adequate
words came to mind to describe the vile creature with
the innocent overtones who had been perpetrating all
this over the last couple days.
Then it struck me WORSE - was that Ben who had snuck
into my bed last night, too? No, surely it couldn't have
been. That WAs a dream, right? Now I didn't know fact
from fiction - I was a mess. I suddenly realized I'd
been standing under the hot water for ages, got out and
put on my sleep clothes. Sleep didn't come easy that
night, believe me. I laid on my other side and watched
the boys' bed through slitted eyes for a long, long
time.
Our first Friday game wasn't until 10am - much more
civilized. So we got up (I had no recollection of
anything untoward happening in the night), got dressed,
had breakfast downstairs and headed off to the rink. I
didn't gave Ben any chance at all to mess with my
clothes - I had the laundry bag under my eye the whole
time he was in the bedroom or bathroom.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully with ONE
exception - my wonderful (that's sarcasm, btw) husband
called me to say he had to work the weekend and so
couldn't make it up to Boston - just cancel his room and
he'd see us at home on Sunday. This was not the first
time he'd pulled something like this - I know I should
have come to expect it by now - I don't know why he
keeps doing this. He puts me in these 'single hockey
mom' situations all the time. He says he trusts me and
knows I can take care of myself.
Maybe so, but I don't trust OTHERS. In fact, I could
almost swear he wants me to get up to some mischief but
that is so not me. I just avoid getting myself in
situations that could even have a chance of leading to
anything like that.
Ben's father showed up toward the end of the evening
game, with his two daughters. Turned out the hotel only
had rooms with a single king bed and did I mind if Ben
continued to sleep with Greg? Wow. That put me in a VERY
awkward situation. If James had still been coming, it
would have been an easy push-back, but I'd already set
the precedent for Greg and Ben sharing the second bed in
my room.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, am I, as one of
my dearest friends keeps telling me, too darned nice for
my own good. What choice did I have without explaining
why that would be ill-advised? It was only two more
nights. I could handle it.
After a very late dinner that night, I hit the bar
harder than I'm usually comfortable doing. Dave was
there to make sure I didn't get into any trouble and I
felt perfectly safe with him - it was his son who
perturbed me! The beers went down easily, then the
cocktails, then the shots. Oh my! It must have been
around 1am when Dave delivered me safely to my room as
he retired to his.
I just threw my clothes off in the dark, not caring
where they ended up and slipped into my bed in my bra
and panties. It vaguely registered in my blurry mind
that Ben probably had a great time with my old panties
that evening once Greg went to sleep. Oh well - after
tonight, just one more night here.
I must have fallen asleep (or passed out!) pretty
quickly, for I woke muzzily as I felt the bed behind me
dip, as if with the weight of a body. The clock read
1:55am - I couldn't have been asleep for long. Again,
the warmth of a body against my back. This was no dream
this time. For better or worse, the amount of alcohol I
had consumed dampened my reactions and I didn't
noticably tense at the touch of the stranger's hand on
my arm.
In my slightly inebriated state, I wondered how far he
would risk going, how much of my body he would explore
without my consent? As his hand slid across my bicep and
down onto my chest, he hesitated as he found my bra. How
did he intend to deal with that, I wondered? Turned out
the little brat was way more expert than I had expected.
He simply moved back a little from my back and almost
expertly undid the clasp, in the dark, with one hand! If
I'd truly been asleep, I'd likely have slept right
through it, he was that good!
He then proceeded to slip the left strap over and off my
shoulder, smoothly and silently, onto my upper arm. The
whole time, he breathed his warm exhalations into my
neck, through my hair. I have to admit, the sensation
was quite enjoyable and I did find myself wondering
about the feelings building between my thighs. Gulp. I
felt his crotch push against by butt cheeks. He was no
midget down there.
His left hand made its way inside the cup of my
partially-removed bra, fingertips stroking and lightly
squeezing the flesh of my left boob. My nipples were
already quite excited as I tried to keep my breathing
steady and sleep-like. I tried so hard to feign a
continued, drunken sleep as this fifteen year old friend
of my son caressed my boob, my nipple and then
progressed down to my belly.
How far should I let him go? I knew I was letting my
inhibitions down because I was partly-drunk, but I was
also by now thoroughly enjoying his gentle, covert
ministrations. Nobody (other than a co-worker one time)
had touched me like this in many years. Was I so wrong
to find it enjoyable?
His hand slipped lower, edging inside the waistband of
my panties. No! This had already gone too far. I rolled
away from him and whispered, ferociously but so as not
to wake Greg "No! Stop what you're doing! This isn't
right! I didn't invite you into my bed and you are NOT
going to take advantage of me having had a few drinks
tonight!" I was quite pleased with myself for getting
all that out without slurring much or waking Greg!
Ben's reaction was to freeze. He withdraw his hand from
the spot on the bed where I'd been and slowly made his
way up and back to his own bed. I think he got the
message, although my mind was in total and absolute
turmoil by now. Was this the end of it? Would he try to
take advantage of me again? Should I suggest Greg share
my bed tomorrow night? I just didn't know the best
course of action and it did not help one bit that I knew
my pussy was soaking from the excitement and
anticipation of just a few minutes ago!
"Uh - Mrs Davis?" Ben whispered from the other bed.
"What now?" I hissed back at him.
"Uh, I'm kinda sorry you're upset with me - didn't mean
for that to happen."
Well, no kidding he didn't mean for that to happen, but
he wasn't exactly apologizing for his actions, was he?
Grrr. I stayed quiet, giving him the silent treatment to
reflect upon.
*
I must have fallen asleep again shortly after, as next
thing I knew I was waking to the 8am alarm on Saturday
morning. Greg was already up and dressed (wow!) and Ben
was still in the bathroom. I lay in bed and stretched -
and as my right hand passed my face on the way up, I
caught a whiff of something. An aroma I don't generally
care for, but instantly identifiable to me. Had I
masturbated in my sleep without realizing it? I
cautiously sniffed my fingers without Greg noticing what
I was doing. Unmistakably pussy. And unmistakably mine!
I let my hand slip into the waistband of my panties - or
I tried to, but found them just above my knees! What had
I been doing? A quick exploration of my pussy revealed
my clit was still engorged and quite sensitive and my
vagina was most thoroughly lubricated with my own
juices.
I had no memory of masturbating in my sleep, but all the
indications did point in that direction. Wow. This was a
first for me and I didn't know how to handle it. Had Ben
listened to me? Had he perhaps watched me? OMG - what if
Greg had heard me? My face felt hot and I'm sure I was
blushing as Ben exited the bathroom with a cheery
"Morning, Mrs Davis! How'd you sleep?". I made my way
into the bathroom without acknowledging him or even
making eye contact with either boy. I was weak and
shaking.
Saturday morning. We go home tomorrow, we go home
tomorrow. I told myself this over and over again as I
showered (again) to rid myself of my womanly perfume. I
sure didn't want all the boys and their dads sniffing at
me like a bitch in heat - that was how obvious I
believed I smelled. To make it worse, no matter how I
scrubbed and scrubbed my right hand, I could still
detect my personal aroma from at least two of my fingers
there. It just wouldn't go away.
The only game that day was at noon, but we planned to
take the boys to the evening Red Sox game, so it would
still be a relatively full day. Dave was such a saint -
he could tell there was something up with me, but other
than asking me if I was ok on a couple occasions, didn't
push the matter. What could I have told him anyway?
His fifteen year old son tried to seduce me last night,
got in bed with me, took off my bra, fondled my boobs
and tried to slip his hand inside my panties? And the
whole thing had aroused me so much I got myself off in
my sleep without realizing it??? I could just picture
Dave's face at a revelation like that. Or, rather, I
couldn't even picture his face - that was just so far
outside our sphere of past conversations!
As bedtime neared, I got more and more nervous. I'd had
a couple beers at the ballgame (well, four), but as I
was driving back to the hotel, that was my limit.
"Nightcap?" Dave asked me, as we walked through the
lobby. I knew I shouldn't, but I didn't want to face the
boys (especially Ben) in the room just yet. So I gave in
and acquiesced. The two of us sat at a small table in
the bar and another kid's parents joined us - just the
four of us.
I bitched a bit more about how my husband, James, often
put me in these situations where I was a single woman
away from home on weekends, often in hotel bars, almost
waiting to get hit upon. The husband of the other couple
said he was suprised James encouraged it, too - he said
I was very attractive for my age and if he were single
he'd have a go at me. At that point, Cindy, his wife,
hit him really hard and we all laughed. I also told the
story of how we were pretty sure a coach from a previous
year had the hots for me, then James pulled out one
weekend and I had to drive the coach to Pittsburg and
back by myself (admittedly with Greg in the car, too).
James had told me he was sure I could "handle anything
that arose". In retrospect, I should have declined - I
was just too naive. Fortunately, not much could have
happened anyway with Greg in the car. Now I thought back
on it some more, the coach had steered the conversation
toward sex on more than one occasion - even WITH Greg in
the car! Eeeeek.
I needed another drink. Or four. The hotel bar shut down
at 2am and we took a bottle of wine to the sofas in the
lobby to finish it (we all had kids in our rooms,
hopefully asleep!). By around 3am, we headed upstairs to
our respective rooms. As it turned out, Cindy and John
were on my floor, so they walked me to my room.
I felt substantially more sober than I probably appeared
to be. My nerves had me slightly on-edge in anticipation
of whatever Ben may try to pull. On one hand, I knew it
was wrong to let him do anything to or with me. On the
other hand, I was pretty wound-up and incensed with
James as I had recalled some of the situations he'd put
me in over the last few years, always finding an excuse
not to accompany me on these trips - and when he DID
come with us, he would usually turn in around 9 or 10pm
and not even come down to the bar!
I undressed totally in the dark. Was my mind made up
already and the action of being naked in the room a
confirmation I would let Ben touch me in the night?
Maybe even encourage him to do so? I slipped into my
bed, acting a little clumsily on purpose so perhaps if
Ben was awake, he'd think my guard was down again.
It didn't take long. Within five minutes of me getting
into my bed, I felt the familiar feel of the bed being
compressed behind me, followed by the warmth of another
body against my back. This time, I didn't detect any
underwear on the other person - just a firm, hot
erection being pressed against my butt. I guess I had
already decided to play along tonight - I was in just
"that mood".
I feigned drunken-ness, mumbling something incoherent as
I shifted a little, causing my butt to rub against the
lovely feel of that erection. I knew it wouldn't take
much to get me soaked and ready to engulf it. As usual,
I felt his hand on my left boob. I made a movement to
kind of lay back against him and spread my legs a
little. His erection was quite firmly trapped under me
as he caressed first my left boob, then my right. My
nipples were on fire and I was loving the attention.
I used my right hand to reach between my thighs and
touch my pussy lips - they were already awash with my
juices and my clit was puffed up and ready for
attention. I let my fingertips trail across it and
moaned, very quietly (or so I thought at the time!). I
felt Ben's cock jerk beneath my left butt-cheek. I
enjoyed making him do that! He let his left hand slide
down my belly to my pubic hair, groom its way through
and down to my labia. I must have felt like I was
burning up, for he gasped aloud as his fingers met my
hot clit and swept past into my even hotter, wetter
vagina.
At this point, I think we both knew there was no going
back - we were in this 'til the end, wherever that may
lead us this evening. For my part, I shimmied my butt
some more, causing him to whimper slightly - I guess the
overall sensation had him pretty close to cumming, so
early, too. I knew I was extremely turned on, but I
didn't think Ben had the knowledge or experience to get
me off too quickly, if that was even his intent. Men are
funny like that - some want to get themselves off, but
some only want to get you off. The latter kind are very
good lovers!
I moaned quietly as Ben's fingers explored my vagina. I
wriggled my butt just far enough up the bed such that
his cock sprang out between my thighs, just below my
pussy. It didn't feel particularly thick, but it was of
a good length and definitely quite rigid. Kind of hard
to tell really, with only the sensation of my thighs as
a form of measurement. In fact, deciding I needed a
little more information, I slid my hand down and sought
the tip with my fingers.
Hmmmmmmm. Uncircumsized - that will be a new experience
for me, I surmised. I stretched my hand lower, around
the length of his shaft. Now it was Ben's turn to moan,
perhaps a little more loudly than ideal, given Greg was
sleeping a few feet away. His cock wasn't very thick at
all. Boy still had quite a bit of growing to do, else he
would have a skinny cock forever. No matter to me - I
needed it inside me. And soon!
I used my left hand to guide the tip of his cock to the
entrance of my vagina. Then I moved my hand back up so
my fingers could caress my clit as I pushed down on his
fifteen year old cock. The motion was fluid and short as
I engulfed him with my wet, hot vagina.
"Gaaaaawwwdddd!", he uttered, in a strangulated sort of
way, as he went balls-deep into me.
Completely forgetting Greg was in the other bed, I
started humping back on Ben's cock, while pressing my
forefinger against my engorged clit at the same time.
That felt so good - it had literally been years since I
had a cock inside of me. I cooed rhythmically as I see-
sawed back and forth on his cock. This was nice, really
nice. Then I remembered about birth control - or lack
thereof! I wasn't on the pill (I wasn't used to sex!),
my periods were irregular at best and my mother had
stayed fertile well into her fifties and I was only
forty-six!
"Ben, honey - we can't finish like this - I'm so sorry -
I can't risk getting pregnant". There. I said it. Ben,
however, appeared oblivious to my announcement, still
rocking away in my front passage. So I moved my hips and
pelvis forward a little, causing him to pull out with a
wet plop. He whimpered a little, trying to push it back
in (and to be honest, I wanted it back in, too!), but I
kept my pussy just out of his reach. But I was so close
to cumming! And I needed my orgasm so badly and I needed
to clamp down on something, squeeze something inside of
me, as I came.
Feeling naughtier than I ever recall feeling in my life,
I wiggled my butt a little to align the tip of Ben's
cock with my butt-hole. I had never done this before,
but Ben's cock seemed thin enough, I ought to be able to
accommodate him, at least to some extent. And I was
still loose enough from the drinking to be able to relax
my muscle back there just enough for Ben to widen it
with the head of his cock as I frantically stroked my
clit.
God, that felt good! I bore down on him a little more as
he started to rock "don't push, honey - let me do all
the moving, please" I requested. It felt so tight back
there and oh so naughty. To be honest, I don't know if I
was getting off more on the sensation or the thought of
what we were doing. Ben, his cock penetrating his
friend's mom's butt - with Greg in the same room!
This wasn't as easy-going as I had expected, though.
It didn't exactly hurt, but he wasn't going in easy. I
moved my pelvis forward and rolled onto my elbows and
knees. He popped out, but quickly got the idea. Ben
repositioned himself on his knees behind my upturned
butt and I guided him once more into my extremely wet
pussy. A couple strokes (very nice ones!) and his cock
was as lubricated as it would ever get. I repositioned
him at my butt-hole and pushed back against his rod. The
head slipped in much more easily this time and I pushed
back some more, resting on my left elbow and forearm as
the fingers of my right hand danced around my labia and
clit.
I pushed back some more, feeling Ben's cock slide into
my rectum, inch by inch. Once the head was fully past my
sphincter, the rest was much easier going in this
position. The feeling of just being so full was
incredible. I've never had that sensation with vaginal
sex. His cock felt like it was three times the size it
had been in my vagina.
He started to rock a little and I stopped him. No in-
and-out moving. My back passage was way too sensitive
for that. Just hold it in there and I'd do the moving. I
didn't know how much longer I could hold off from
cumming - I was so close to there as my fingers flew
across my throbbing, pulsing clit. I slipped a couple
fingers into my vagina - I was so incredibly wet AND I
could feel his cock through the joining membranes. That
put me over the edge.
I don't know what kind of noises I made. I know I tried
to stay quiet, but I'm almost sure I wasn't 100%
successful. My muscles all seemed to clench in waves,
starting with my pelvis where my rectum gripped down
hard on poor Ben's cock. That was the trigger for him,
too - I know he grunted and made a funny, high-pitched
squealing sound as he released his white-hot load into
my bowels - which in turn caused ME to have a second
orgasm on top of the first one which was still coursing
through my poor body!
When the two waves met, it was like an intense kind of
cramping. When they separated, it was a kind of
indescribable ecstasy - a relief that made the pain
before and after eminently tolerable. I truly can't find
adequate words to convey the mixture of lovely
sensations coursing through my body. And poor Ben back
there, his cock trapped inside my back passage until I
could relax my muscles enough to let him go.
"Mrs Davis?" he asked, after a couple minutes had
passed. "Huh?" I responded, trying to gather myself back
to a modicum of coherency.
"Mrs Davis, that was the most wonderful experience I
ever had in my life. Thank you so much. I won't be
bothering you like this again, but could you, er, let me
have my dick back? I need to move...."
My fuzzy mind took a few more seconds to register he was
still firmly entombed in my back passage. My orgasms had
left me REALLY tight back there and I had to push,
almost as if I was pooping, to release him. And to be
honest, it did hurt me a little, too - I guess I'm just
not built for that kind of sexual entertainment, even
with the thin cock of a fifteen year old.
I slumped forward onto my belly and chest as Ben backed
away and returned to his own bed. Greg appeared to have
slept through it all, much to my relief. Now I have to
wonder if Ben is going to tell any of his friends about
our little adventures - I sure hope not, because then it
will be sure to get to either Greg or Dave and from one
of them to James. And if word gets around the hockey
team that Kirstie is an "easy lay" and "takes it in the
ass", that does not bode well for my reputation.
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real
life" can look forward to many unproductive years
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 70