#230879 - He was a flatterer, that Johnnie, sitting across from me here in the pub on Friday night in our little town and I was feeling it was warm in the room and it was time to go and walk home and I told him I had enough wine, that I knew my limit. His tongue was dipping inside my slit for more and I was hot at my center; my body was throbbing now as his cold nose and hot tongue were bringing me off like no date had ever done at any dance or in any dark corner, my toes curling up, and here in the middle of my quiet kitchen I could hear my date whispering as I came and came, this time not on his fingers, as he was holding my face. “You can’t do this! Stop!” Brett was outnumbered and helpless at this point.