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Show 122 "Hell no, just get on the bed." " I 'd even prefer Monday." She shrugged. "OK by me then. You don't get your money back though." I got on the bed. I was trying to figure out where on the bed to lie, and she had to tell me, placing me, getting impatient. "On your back, on your back!" Then I remembered that Ross had told me about certain French preliminaries with her mouth. I felt like old Phil our jackass when we had to calculate everything and place him just so on his platform, and I certainly didn't want to come off early like that dumb beast had done, spilling his semen down the mare's flank. Ross had told me not to let her make me come with her mouth because that would be it, buster, no other stuff, so I followed his advice and thought about other things, mainly about setting in bulkheads on Liberty Ships. I went through the whole thing from snapping the chalk line to having the crane drop the bulkhead in to calling the arc welder to tack it down. It sure worked; I didn't feel a thing. Let alone ecstasy. That part over, we both sighed with relief. "OK," she said, still with the headache pain on her face. She still wore her black pumps, on the bed, which I thought sort of strange. She got me out of the way so she could lie supine where I had, pressed her forehead once more, then pushed and tugged me into position, then grabbed my phallus and guided it up toward her indifferent womb. I guess Dad guiding the jackass home was not so unusual after all. "Don't lay so hard on me," she said petulantly, frowning with her headache. I didn't know what to do though. "Oh god, you kids! Get up on your elbows, will you?" I hoped she didn't think I was green. Again I thought of ship building, for time was still money, my money now, and Ross had told me to prolong it as long as possible. Yet I was worried that I would take too long and aggravate her headache. I had expected an |
