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And with that the daughter let out a soft, "Wow." Her breast was quite soft. But there was an unnatural firmness too. Almost an enviable firmness. A youthful, sensual, feminine firmness. After the poke came the lift. First with right hand, then with both her right and left hand. The weight felt normal. After the lift came the hold. Two hands. Palms out. The kind of hold all women do. The kind of hold a woman does sexually to herself, as well as instinctively to cover up. The hold had a different affect than expected. For mom it was validating. Her new and larger breasts were worthy of a gesture that brought a direct, strong reaction. For her daughter it was a spontaneous act of curiosity and inquiry. For mom it was also sexual, not in a horny, overt sense, but a sensual, subtle sense. It felt good. For her daughter it was also sexual, but not in an intentional way. She felt it emotionally. Not for her mom, no. But the sudden sensation of physical, human, sexual beauty. Besides the. "Don't worry if it is ... unless this is too much too soon?" Too much too soon? I wanted EVERYTHING, and I wanted it years ago. I took a deep breath. "Yes, it is my first time," I said, my voice ragged. "No, it's not too much." "Well," he said, "if it's your first time, I suppose I should make it memorable." With that he kissed me again, hard, and swung me around and basically frog-marched me into his bedroom. Did I mention he was also strong? The next thing I knew we were standing beside the bed and his hands were busy at the buttons of my shirt. As he undid them, he nuzzled at my neck, every so often flicking my earlobe with his tongue. My hands were on his shoulders and suddenly I was hyper-aware of his body beneath his clothes. Frantically, I tugged at his jacket and pulled it off and grabbed the hem of his sweater. He paused long enough to let me pull it up over his head, and then he slid my shirt off. He yanked my undershirt out of my jeans and suddenly I was shirtless. He.
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It was visible to anyone and everyone in the village, whenever they looked in that direction. That meant no one had any privacy when they used it. In fact, all it was were two tree trunks suspended on wooden pylons over an open hole in the ground. While it was better than shitting behind a tree in the woods (which was what I’d been doing since getting stranded, here), I could certainly build something better than that.I’d like to point out from the beginning that the culture shock for the locals was minimal as far as I could tell. Yes the lanterns in the cave were a marvel to them, and I’ll admit that Clara, Gabby, and I didn’t even try to explain how they worked. The thing is that the locals quickly accepted them as just being there. They were a light source like a fire. They were special and they worked differently, but once the locals got over the initial shock of seeing them for the first time, they moved on. That was what life was like for them. They were a lot more accepting of.

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