I knew that she loved what had transpired last night and understood that her and her husband had been playing and enjoying their new sexual desires with each other all night long. I took Sharla's hand and led her to the sofa and asked her if she would like a drink and she said, "Yes please, water."I went into the kitchen and knew that Sharla's eyes were on my body which was visible through my dressing gown. I got each of us a glass of water and went and sat by Sharla on the sofa. I asked her what was going on and she said that Jim had just fucked her for the seventh time tonight and she needed a short break and decided to come visit me.I said, "Well thank you dear, may I see how much cum your husband has put into and onto your body," as I reached into her hear and felt the fresh cum still clinging to her blonde locks.Sharla blushed as she felt herself pulling on the sash to her jacket and then pulling it open. She was naked underneath it and she had red marks all over her sweet and. (damn, there's always a "but" that follows such a good start)... but, this is scary stuff. I don't know what's right and what's wrong. I know how I feel, but that doesn't make it right. Won't you give me some space, please?"When she said "please" to me with that certain sincere, loving tone of voice, I was a goner. "Okay, okay. But don't blame me if I'm limping around all the time." (As if there were blame or that I'd really be limping. The major organ limping in me was not my dick... it was my brain!)We'd gone skinny dipping each day in the freezing high-Sierra, snow-fed lake. It was so cold that my pecker had attempted to crawl back into my abdomen. My cremasteric muscles - that thin sheet of muscle that envelopes the spermatic cord and testes - had gone into such intense spasm from the cold that each day, on dashing back out of the water, I was doubled over with pain. It didn't help my sense of dignity or my macho image when Jean'd point and laugh at me. (I've since come to see.
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