"Come with me. I'll give you some soup and a place to sleep it off."He pulled his hand out of mine. Using the tree as a prop he slowly climbed erect. ...No," he said, "We will trade. If you give me some of your soup I will tell you something you haven't heard inna long, long time."I glanced up and down the road. Nobody was in sight, it was too early for the crowd I got for the mid-day meal. If I could get some soup in him I knew I could get him out of sight. He would sleep it off, and I would be. I looked at it, poked my little finger in the globulous thick semen, now running out of solution and forming a pool along the stapled center, and like a little curious chemist I just had to play with it between my fingers, smell it, and taste it, its acrid saltiness, and silky feeling, arousing more curiosity than feelings of a sexual nature.I sat in the cubical and played with it, looking at the photos in the porn magazine, and learnt what adults do in all their graphic detail to produce this. More

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