Apparently Joan thought that I had been deprived of companionship and felt guilty about making me sleep alone. She appeared in my room as an angel, stepping through the cabin door with half the morning sun at her back. It was a scene straight from the movies, a temporarily golden haired angel appearing from the sun's ray without invitation or warning. What a beautiful sight to awaken to."I was going to come down and sleep with you later last night, but we both fell asleep in each other's arms, and I didn't wake up until I had to pee this morning." That's okay, Joan. You needed to stay with him last night. It was the right thing to do. How did it go last night?" We did it twice, and he took his time, but it's just not as exciting as it is with you." She was in my bed already, embracing me, kissing me, and running her index finger up and down the shaft of my rapidly hardening cock. There was no point to further foreplay; her nipples were rock hard and I could see the glistening of her. Sexual release, that is. Accordingly, my attire that night blended with that need. I wore a light cotton sundress that ended about mid-thigh, blue with abstract white patterns, the usual sundries underneath; a bra that pushed my tits up enough to attract the attention of any man within a half-mile radius. But I'm already ahead of myself.With a certain amount of deliberation, I avoided the seedier bars populating the Downtown scene where guys seemed to think buying a lady a beer entitled them to one night's ownership. My economic degree from Princeton assured me that I was somewhat - although not that much – deserving of better.Found myself in a little French café, more wine bar than eatery, overlooking the Cape Fear River. His name was Johnny. He was at least ten years older than me, but that didn't bother me in the least. The place was packed, with at least two dozen people spilled out onto the boardwalk just off the back entrance to the café itself.We stood hip to hip sipping a.
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