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In no time at all, Cheryl became a female Timmy. In other words, she became a constant target of Carla's incessant exhibitionist shows.At first, my girlfriend wore a g-string bikini in front of Cheryl, but one afternoon I got home from school to find the apartment empty. Then I stepped into the apartment's small backyard/patio and there was sweet little Cheryl in her conservative swimsuit (a black two-piece number cut quite modestly). Lying next to Cheryl was Carla. My girlfriend wore nothing more than her birthday suit!I found it such a thrill to see Carla casually exposing herself to somebody else so extensively - even if it was to a young girl. I think Carla was a bit aroused too, because she asked me to rub lotion on her back and didn't stop me when my rubbing got lower and lower and I started massaging first her legs and then her buttocks. She just lay there, smiling faintly, her eyes unreadable behind dark sunglasses. Cheryl continued to read a horror paperback - or pretended. If you can make me cum, you earn an extra bill." That lit a fire under her ass and she went to work real fast trying to earn the extra money. She did a fantastic strip for me. I was getting horny and wet watching her. When she stood behind me and ran her hands over my shoulders and down over my boobs, I shivered. I think she picked up on that because my blouse buttons were undone and her hands were massaging my tits. I leaned my head back into her and she kissed my neck. I held her head and brought her lips to my cheek. She was making me feel really good and I now wanted more of this woman. She walked to the front of me, climbed onto the chair and straddled me. She rubbed her pussy against me and held my face between her boobs. Derek was watching, so I cupped her tit and sucked on her nipple. I must of really latched on tight because she pressed my face into her boob hard. Then she just let me do my thing on her tits. She had very large nipples, about as round as a dime, maybe a long.
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Most of the grave markers were simple and plain. You could almost tell what families were barely making it by and which ones were living it up just by looking at the tombstones and markers. My father’s grave has no tombstone. It’s just a big plain slab of marble with his name and date of birth and death chiseled into it. In the dream I was standing over my father’s grave. I had a huge sledgehammer in my hands, gripping it so hard my knuckles were white. I remember as I swung the hammer up I noticed there was a random scatter of rust on the big metal head, and drops of moisture beaded on it in places. I came down hard with the hammer and smashed my father’s stone right where his name was carved into the big gray slab. I relaxed a moment from the effort then lifted the hammer and threw it aside. The slab had shattered in a million places. There was a scatter of gray dust from the broken marble covering the remains of the slab. Lightning lit up the sky and my shadow was suddenly thrown.

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