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I would whip off my sweat drenched t-shirt and drop my shorts and underpants down around my ankles. I always faced the back of the house for the most privacy. I figured it was possible that someone might be peeking through a hole in the fence. So I faced the house in complete confidence, certain that no one would catch me lying back naked; masturbating, and blowing my intense young load all over the ground. (Some days I would be so worked up that I wasn't sure if I would ever stop cumming.)Except one day I was wrong.On this particular summer day, I was in no particular hurry after finally cumming. I lie back and continued to play with myself as I gradually caught my breath. I looked up at the clear blue sky above me, and took in the sounds of the birds and the occasional car driving by out front. Finally, I sat up and reached down for my white briefs and looked directly into the back picture window. There stood Mrs. Peterson looking straight out at me. She was in her white. "Donning the suits but leaving the tops off so that they had the mag boots for traction, they only had to deal with inertia. Jorge began to propel the crates using leg power for propulsion and his arms for guidance. Jane used his bulk and upper body strength to catch and guide the cargo into place. After a few mishaps, they quickly developed a rhythm that turned the old firefly class transport hold into boomer ship-shape. While they worked, Jorge asked the bigger man how he came by his name if he didn't mind telling."Oh, my Ma named me after her family religion. We were sky-clad but I got tired of bein' nekkid all the time and practicing temperance and non-violence and no possessions, so I just up and run off. I guess you could call me a 'jack' Jane."Jorge laughed "Well, you're the first non-stockbroker Jane I've ever met."After a couple more hours with gravity restored and the suits off, Jane beamed with appreciation. "Come on Maestre, let's go get us a drink!" Sorry Jane, but I'm.
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