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She could not help feeling smug.Todd looked shocked and that pleased her."You sucked one? Who?" My boyfriend's." I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend?" I had one. That was last year."Todd nodded with his jaw set firmly. Pam glanced down at his lap and was shocked. Standing up along his right leg in his jeans was a long, thick ridge, much bigger than the lump she had seen in Melanie's boyfriend's jeans. Melanie hadn't lied. Todd's penis was much larger."Did you ever let him touch you?" Todd said."Touch me?" Yeah. Like this." Todd reached across the seat and his hand slithered between her thighs and under her skirt.Pam gasped. Her thighs parted. Todd's hand slipped up her leg to her crotch before she could squeeze them shut. The touch of his hand on the bare inside of her thigh was like an electric current shooting through her body.His fingers quickly wiggled under her white cotton panties and touched her warm crotch. Pam was frozen to her seat. She never felt a man's hand. “Give it to me now!” she begged and I felt my ejaculation trigger. My cock jerked as the first jet of spunk left for Sue’s womb; again and again it jolted as stream after stream left my balls. I counted eight, it may have been more, but it certainly wasn’t any less. Sue started to cum on the third or fourth squirt, and Tom wasn’t far behind, filling Sue’s mouth with his spunk. Sue swallowed Tom’s load and, as she collapsed, exhausted on the bed, my cock dropped from her cum filled cunt. I looked at Tom and he looked back at me. I smiled, he laughed. “That,” I said, “was fucking awesome.” “It sure was,” said Tom, “come on, let’s get a coffee” I didn’t bother to wipe my cock, Tom and I just walked out of my room naked and settled ourselves down on two leather armchairs in the front room. We could hear Sue moaning on the bed in my room. “Coffee?” Tom asked. “White, no sugar please mate.” I replied. Sue re-appeared, still naked, as Tom was walking back into the room with my coffee..
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” “Thou dost jest!” “Careful Begum, you know that jest comes from the Shamed Tongue.” Then she smiled, “Nay, Daughter. I do not jest. Indeed, I have been sounded out more than once and asked if I would give leave for him to stand in as a breeder. His height, his strength, his wit, and even his green eyes are trekks wanted by many femelles for their children. However, the Witan’s feelings of him were not and, still, are not so kind. Were I not a shamaness and had I not won the Witan over by calling to their minds that his birth-intinga has great worth, too much to lose, they might not have given leave for him to be my consort. I daresay that had I not chosen him when I had, that he may have struck out for a life of aloneness in the Jungle. He’s steadfastly selfstanding. He tholes the Keep only because of us.” What she did not tell her daughter was that, behind closed doors, the Matriarchs had leaned upon to her to chose him. He had already turned back feelers from others. The Witan.

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