“Now where are my boxers...” Jay said as he resumed searching for his underwear. “Jay, you know, Kyle wasn’t wearing underwear when he came to...school. That’s why he borrowed a pair of mine.” I said to Jay, who had just found his boxers. “Really? You don’t say... Well...now I would like to follow in his foot steps.” Jay answered. And with that, he threw his boxers into his back pack and put on his shorts (which were almost identical in style to our uniform) with no underwear on. Kyle and I. Even the memories then and now enough to arouse me to thickening with want. Several times over the weekend I was forced to relieve the pressures of desire. I lowered my pants beyond the knee and took the might of my shaft in both hands, as my mind raced with the fruitful memories of Brenda and the avalanche of joys we had found. I had become wanton at least, or perhaps obsessed deeply with lust for the younger, hotter than hot woman who had taken my all and reveled in it as no other ever had. I. More

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