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The morning has yet to hit and already I feel heated while peering to the noise across the cul-de-sac, squinting being the only way to focus on the two strange folks I spot. " What appeared to be a very young child ran about on the old Taylor lawn. She was distant and gave off an hourglass silhouette through the blacktop’s eye-distorting heat vapor.
Both were watching the tedious unloading of a large moving van. Endlessly h—- , always curious and a naive virgin, I dressed in sporting shorts and a floppy white ball shirt. A few fast steps through the bottom floor of my parent’s house and the side door neared me. A dream come true — Standing on my front steps was "Live with Regis and Kathie Lee" co-host, Kathie Lee Gifford.
The ample shaft bent 90-degress over my left thigh top. My pulsating dark c-o-c-k-h-e-a-d and green shorts became wet from dense, simmering p-r-e-c-u-m.
(No nipple showed, sadly.) There was no way she could stop the shirt from blowing up, as she needed both hands to hold her son and electrical cord.