She took her time to open his pants, pulling them slightly down, seeing his white boxers underneath and the modest bundle laying beneath the fabric. It was exciting enough to touch it, putting her hand slowly on top of it. But more than anything she wanted to taste it.Being careful to watch his face for any reaction, she reached her hand into his boxers and let her fingers run through the course forest of hair surrounding his crotch and his penis. Suddenly it was in her palm and she could squeeze it gently. She kept squeezing it and stroking it, carefully letting her fingers slide up and down, and to her amazement, she felt it start to grow.His breathing was still regular, his eyes closed and his whole body seemed to be at ease. Feeling a little bolder, she found the opening in front of his boxer and let her other hand slide through it. Grabbing the now semi hard cock, she managed to pull it out through the hole and then stopped to admire it for a moment. She started to wonder if she. ‘Frank, you share those cookies with Joe, it ain’t nice to not share.’ She gave me a crooked smile and handed me two glasses of milk filled to the brim, but not overflowing. Damn, those were the days. The years just flew by like fish hooked on a string waiting to be cooked, but suppertime never arrived. I’d grown tired of waiting for my own prize fish to find its way into the bucket. The big event should have happen years ago. It was my turn to catch it. It was my turn to have good fortune. It wasn’t fair for Joe to have all the luck! I frowned at him and recast my line back into the lake from the other side of the boat. The chase never ended, I sighed and started to wind on the cord. I’d never learned how to bait the line as good as Joe. I guess, I just ain’t a fisherman, I guess I never was. I pondered this as I watched my line in the water. It was completely ignored by all the fish gathered there, but I’d become accustomed to that. ‘Come on Joe,’ I whined again, ‘why can’t we.
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