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But instead, Lisa backed away from him, quickly pulled her sweater off up over her head, undid her bra, and dropped those pieces of clothing down on the carpet, right at John's feet. Then she darted off--with her body now naked from the waist up--and made a beeline for her bedroom. John just stood by the front entrance for a moment, in total disbelief. Every time that he thought he had this young woman figured out, she would end up doing something else that totally caught him off-guard and surprised him. He thought to himself, This lady's like a birthday or Christmas present that you unwrap and open up, only to discover another wrapped box inside of the box that you just opened. John was lost in this thought when an Eva Gabor-sounding voice, with its overly-thick Hungarian-style accent, playfully called out from the bedroom, "Vell, come on, you bik tettybeya. Vaht ahh you vaiting fawh, dahlink? An ad in duh newspaypah?" CHAPTER 2 1988: The Family Once upon a time, there was a papa bear, a mama bear and a baby bear--all living in the same house with Goldilocks. Well eventually, Mama Bear got so disgusted with Papa Bear's excessive drinking, that she tried to punish him by denying him his husbandly porridge. But Mama Bear had badly underestimated Papa Bear. He refused to be denied that which he felt was rightfully his. So Papa Bear decided that he would get even with that ol' Mama Bear. Late one night, he went to Baby Bear's small bedroom, while she was sound asleep in her little bed, and he vowed to himself under his breath, "I'm gonna eat your porridge, you little baby bear bitch!" Lisa Chadwick's whole life had seemed to her like it was some weird, distorted fairy tale. In this particular fractured fairy tale, Lisa was the baby bear. But it might be more appropriate to call her the "bare baby," because she preferred to sleep in the nude. And even when she didn't, the most clothing that she would ever wear to bed was a pair of panties. Even on the coldest of nights, she relied on her blankets and quilts to keep her nice and toasty. Lisa really wasn't a baby either--at least not in the true sense of the word. She was an 18-year-old girl, with the intellect of a 21-year-old, and the sexual knowledge of a 10-year-old. With this combination of traits, Lisa was also a walking-disaster waiting to happen. But right now, Lisa wasn't walking. It was a Sunday night--February 14th, 1988, to be exact--and she was sound asleep in her own bedroom, tucked safely under the covers of her own cozy twin size bed, and having one of those erotic dreams that had been plaguing her ever since she had reached puberty. Her erotic dreams always involved her playing the role of the young princess, who was rescued from her evil stepfather, the king, by some handsome young prince. Of course, the role of "the prince" was played by whichever boy at school that Lisa happened to have a crush on at the time. But even though "the prince" was always someone different, the ending to the dream would always turn out the same. The young prince would whisk Lisa away from her horrible existence, and they would end up passionately making love in the late evening on a secluded stretch of beach, with a full moon shining down on the white tops of the ocean waves, as they relentlessly crash and splash up against the rocky coastline. In her erotic dreams, Lisa also always envisioned herself as having long straight reddish-gold hair, and the hourglass-shaped body of a fully-grown, voluptuous woman. This was a far cry from the gangly, narrow-hipped, budding-breasted, almost-boyish body that Lisa woke up to in the mirror every morning. And she would have been extremely disappointed--and very upset indeed--if she could have looked into a crystal ball, and seen that, three years from now, her fully-grown woman's body wouldn't look that much different from the 18-year-old body that she now inhabited. Many times, Lisa had woken up from one of these erotic dreams to discover that her hand was already stuck in her crotch, with her fingers in auto-pilot mode, as they were deftly stroking away at her already-moist and indian blood-engorged vulva. I said that maybe she would have to help him in the bath as you can’t get the plaster wet. "FLOP LIKE THIS?" My mother finishes and helps me up, then rolls me on my back. She watched as her sister gave him a few more tugs, making sure he was hard, then closed her lips around the head of his cock. With a moan, he grabbed the back of my head, thrusting his hardening cock down my throat. It was 7:30 on the dot when Don and Cheryl appeared at the dining table as Bill had already been escorted to the table and Terry she was acting grumpy and Janet sat drinking her coffee. On other occasions I will give a complete stranger a world class blowjob. PLEASE?” I couldn't wait. that wasn't close to the last ménage we had. While he was there he tossed into the cart indian and flogger, crop and whip. I don't know how you don't see that... “The dude ain’t wrong.” he said in a jock-y fashion that completely contrasted his look. Its...its warm...and its gooey! “No one will say anything.” Slow down.” Lick your fingers and then use them to transfer your saliva to your womanhood." Before it was just him sitting there eyes open but now it’s rest and I don’t know what miracle this Father Gabriel worked but my son is back.