If you've read this far, I bet you're thinking that this story sounds like sour grapes from a jilted suitor or a disappointed boyfriend. If that's wha... you're thinking, you'd be very wrong. In the first place, I never chased after her, and in the second place there was no disappointing of boyfriends when Rachel was the girlfriend.I was born at Lawrence Memorial Hospital in New London, Connecticut, and named James Francis Murphy on July 22, 1944, but everybody always called me Jimbo. There were. Holding the book in one hand she slowly stroked my cock with the other. She began reading where she had left off.I abruptly interrupted her discourse. "You know that birch switch that hangs by itself on the wall in the punishment room? Do you think that would leave blister-welts on someone?" I stared up into the clouds as if in deep thought.She stopped reading. I could feel her stare. Although our relationship had developed a closeness that permitted much play and back and forth foolish. More

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