I didn't call her in the evenings to talk, I didn't spend a lot of time with her at school, I didn't hold her hand at lunch, I didn't look for her on ...he sidelines during our games. She was a receptacle for me, a cum receptacle. She did the work for me so I didn't have to use my hand to jack off. Every Friday night, every Saturday night, and one time on a Sunday afternoon, we managed to meet somewhere to jump each other's bones. I ate her out, she gave me head, I fucked her or she fucked me.. .. because... , " Sara paused for a moment trying to muster up a little courage, "... 'cause ever since the day when... well you know... I've been thinking about it alot." Alot?" Mark asked; his curiosity piqued."Yeah." Her nervousness seemed to fade as she saw his interest. "Like... constantly. I mean, it's all I seem to think about." Really?" He replied, in a more suggestive tone."Well... yeah." Sara admitted, loosening her grip on her shirt and relaxing her stance a little."Well..." Mark. More

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