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When I reached the top again, I flicked my tongue in shorter, faster strokes under his head. Levi was responding to me, widening his legs and shuffling closer. I circled my tongue slowly around his head in both directions, pushing back his foreskin with my lips every now and then. Then, with a steadying breath, I turned my eyes up to Levi and popped the head into my mouth. I swirled my tongue again, then lowered my head, filling myself. It was an amazing feeling. Having his soft skin and his veiny stiffness pressing against my tongue and lips was exciting beyond belief. I never knew I could want something in my mouth so badly. His cock seamed to pulse with vitality. It felt surprisingly wholesome. With one hand holding back my hair, Levi began stroking his fingertips through it. I used this rhythm on his cock, sinking it deep into my mouth and bobbing back up with each tender caress. I used my tongue to stroke the underside of his cock with each descent. He throbbed in my mouth a. I was convinced that mentioning his lost wife would have been crude and indecent, so I eventually let him come to the subject from alone. He told me about the emptiness he sometimes felt creeping across his belly. He also talked about how he had been sitting beside her, holding her hand as her heart suddenly stopped. He told me he realized more and more how much his wife had filled his life during their twenty-eight years of wedlock. Sometimes he had to pause while talking, for tears started peeking out of his eyes all from alone. During a short moment of silence he looked at me, and said: “Listen, Sheryl. There's something you could help me with. Well... Only if you really like to. Ann wouldn't help me – I know that – but it's more of a symbolic act. You know, something to mark a fresh start. I just feel like it's time to leave all the sadness behind; and I think you can help me fix that.” I replied with a puzzled look. “There's an old wing chair downstairs in our basement,” he.
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Bridgewater looked at him with steel in his eyes, “We have to take back the Cambridge.”Logan was cold, shivering, his fingers already feeling thick and weak. He’d been crawling for at least an hour or two, though there was no easy way to track time in the dark passages lit only by his flashlight. He’d made a wrong turn twice and had to backtrack after consulting the hand-drawn map of the system. It was much easier to get lost than it should have been. Several times, the map differed from the actual layout, and Logan hoped that those differences didn’t lead him in the wrong direction.He paused at the first really narrow part he’d come to. Some of the passages had been small, but he’d still been able to stay on his hands and knees and move rather freely that way. The passage ahead was half that size, and Logan knew he’d be forced onto his stomach to inch his way forward. He tied the pack across his chest and pushed it forward of him to keep access as he moved, the flashlight held.

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