“John? John Thomas, right?” The guy that she had heard was coaching in a nearby town. She hoped she had guessed right, because if not, it would b... really embarrassing. “That’s right,” he said, holding out a hand. Heather shook the offered hand as she continued gazing at her classmate. This was not the John Thomas she remembered. The John Thomas she remembered was slightly overweight, frequently smelled bad, and had terrible acne. “To be perfectly honest,” John said in a whisper, “I never. I’m going to time it so I come while I have the very last sip in my mouth.”“But...”“Finish. I know I intend to.”He groaned, gnawing another succulent morsel of venison and trying to ignore his raging desire to be back inside her.The moment he was done, she drained the rest of her wine and threw her head back in ecstasy while he gaped, marveling at the beauty of her orgasm. On unsteady legs she stood, her expression feral and her need palpable, small rivulets of fluid trailing down her inner. More

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