The fabric of Paul’s boxer-briefs were being sorely tested, as it stretched this way and that, trying to accommodate the bulge within.  Seemed like the bulge demanded freedom, amongst other things.  Oh great, and it didn’t help matters that Charlette conveniently removed his jeans.  Or maybe it did, for the bulge’s sake anyway.  Now free of the constricting denim, the bulge, well, bulged even more.<br/><br/>Hold the phone, did she pick up on my really, really subtle nod?  Or did she just ignore anything and everything anyway?  This was getting mighty ridiculous, Paul thought.  Whoa, Paul was actually thinking at a time like this?  How was this even possible, what with all the blood that shoulda been in the vicinity of his brain congregating somewhere else?<br/><br/>Ah, but of course.  The brain with a one-track mind was now clearly in charge.  As his eager hands continued to play with Charlette’s luscious ass, she once again sought his mouth and tongue.  She was a great kisser, but then he was so out of practice, how would he know?  Paul was just happy as a clam that he remembered how.