She couldn't remember if it was Paul, her boyfriend or Mr Jackson her married tutor and lover. They had walked hand in hand through the warm trees, laughing and talking, kissing and cuddling. They had come upon a stream which upon inspection was quite warm. They had taken off there shoes and sat on the bank of the stream and let the water flow over there feet. Her memory then skipped to them being in the stream, naked, and being made love to by a really big penis. She was in the missionary position but couldn't see or remember who it was who was making her feel so good. She then remembered walking through the woods again, her lover was dressed, she was naked. She had asked him where her clothes were and he had replied that she didn't need them. She had laughed and skipped along the well trodden path, so happy in her day out. Sylvia made a cup of tea, still thinking about her sexy dream. Her last memory before her alarm went off was getting into a car in a car park where there were. ‘Not us, mon ami,’ Guy said, casually resting his hand on his friend’s leg, midway between his knee and groin. He hadn’t meant to, had he? It was as if some sort of external force controlled it. Adam shivered. It was as though a hot poker had been placed on his thigh. His whole body was tingling at the contact. Did Guy feel the same? Was his friend’s cock twitching and starting to lengthen, just like his own? What the hell was happening? For a while, neither spoke. Only the sound of their heavy breathing filled the otherwise empty air as they sipped their Cognac. Neither wanted to disturb the other and neither wanted the feelings to go away, but neither felt able to say or do anything. Something was happening between them, and neither would or could admit it. They remained like that for some time, leaning back against a chesterfield, their legs stretched out towards the fire, their tight trousers emphasising their respectable bulges, their shirts open almost to their waists. Guy’s.
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