I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew what I wanted. I also knew I would have to be the one to ask. “Please,” was all I had to whisper. You turned...to me, a smile beginning to play at the edges of your lips as your fingers slowly moved up, grazing my skin, feeling the heat that was rolling off me in waves. They stuttered when they reached where the barrier should be, searching along the length for the small scrap of cloth waiting to be pushed aside. Little did you know, the first thing I had done. .. my puss." Puss?" of course my son had to ask."My privets." You call your privates for puss?" Denis again."No!" What do you call it then?" I don't know. Nothing." What do you tell dad if you want him to touch you on your erogenous zone, then?" Belinda pursued the matter further."Pussy! Now I think..." I think you're doing just fine!" I had to half-laugh at my wife's obvious embarrassment."Why don't *you* tell them about your sensitive spot then?" Oh! Yes. It's... just under the - it's my. More

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