I only knew that Ann was not one of those on the other futon. We settled down on the futon that we had occupied that day and began by kissing each ot...er. This slowly intensified to deep kissing, mouths open wide and tongues vying with each other to penetrate as far as they could. Our sarongs slipped off as we bodily moved against each other and my erection was pushing heartily at her thighs. Her legs opened and her wetness made a flight path for my soaring cock, for it touched that sweet. I was born in rural Georgia in late 1952 to a single parent. At leastthat's the term used today. Back then back then the term would havebeen an unwed Mother. My mother was barely 18 years old when I wasborn. Without many other families around to use as a point ofreference, I suppose a small boy does not even know that there"should" be a mother and a "father" in a family. At any rate, thefather, a man, the other half of the procreation duo was neverdiscussed. As a matter of fact I can't remember. He rung the doorbell of a large suburban house, a range rover parked in the driveway and friendly light glowing from the windows. He shifted weight from one foot to another while he waited, unable to totally shake off his anxiety. Finally the door was opened by a woman - Darius guessed around forty, but she easily could have passed for thirty - who looked like a blonde, curvier, maturer version of Isabelle. She was dressed in an orange cocktail dress and pumps with golden hoop earrings, her. However, though she was, she somehow managed to hide itwell enough to greet Al and Helen Snyder with a most becoming smile."Kathy! Denise!" Helen Snyder began brightly. "It's been awhile. Aland I have missed you guys. The four of us really need to get togethersoon and play some pinochle..."The conversation with the Snyders was both pleasant and brief and Helendid most of the talking. "...Neither Al nor I were sure it was you atfirst, Denise," Helen Snyder offered. "Both Al and I thought.
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