So she motioned me to come over to the other side of the bar, into a more obscure booth. There were ambient christmas style ligthing that offered a soft glow to her soft features. I shuffled into the bench next to her. The table offered much obscurity for on lookers. We sat there just looking at each other for a minute.. each afraid to move first. She finally lean toward me as if by instinct. Our faces very close now, she put her hand on the bench, brushing my thigh, to better brace herself. Our eyes were locked. her eyes then slowly closed as if resigning herself to her passions as she leaned closer still, brushing her cheek against mine. I felt her warm breath on my neck. her breast enveopled my arm with its softness...
er..ew... ahhh!!! PLOP! oh!.. ok... I'm done now..
why puberty-laden 18 y/o boys shouldn't write sex stories.. 
