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As I fucked her pussy with my tongue, I pushed her legs back as far as I could, lifting her ass off the bed… she moaned with delight, and pulled my head in for more. I rolled her over to her stomach, stockings and boots still on and panties, stockings down. I took her hands, moving them under her stomach, wanting her to masturbate while she sucked my cock. I pulled her hair, she sucked me hard, moaning as she pleasured herself. I could smell her cum, and I couldn’t take it any longer… I reached down, fingered her hard and fast, then tasted it. I flashed back to dinner, picturing myself face down in her. I had to taste more of her. Removing my cock from her mouth, I spread her ass apart and began licking her pussy while she masturbated. She went wild, grinding her ass in my face, faster…faster …faster. I tore at her stockings and panties, pulling my face as deep in her pussy as I could get, licking her engorged pussy … purple with passion, its potency making me crazy. One last arch. I preferred believing these weren't "thanks for the dance" kisses; I wanted to believe they were "I like you" kisses instead. They were still quick simple little pecks, but my imagination made them into something more than they might have been.There was my birthday gift. Jackie gave me a mirror with butterflies on it. It was a little girl's toy, a music box, and the butterflies moved when the music was playing. But the song it played was "You Light Up My Life." I wanted to believe Jackie was giving me a subtle hint with this gift.Were these signals real or imagined? I did not have the perception to know, and I lacked the courage to find out. Instead, I remained slumped in melancholy: a condition that characterized my life in those times.One day something happened. I will never know what it was, but for some reason Christine suddenly developed an intense dislike for Jackie and Sam. This was a pattern; it had happened with other couples. No doubt there was some real or imagined slight.
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