At this rate, Paul knew exactly where the two of them would end up.  Well, they were already on his bed, so that location wouldn’t be changing any time soon.  Nefarious positions, on the other hand, were almost guaranteed to be on the menu.  For now though, he was quite happy right where he was.  He’d yet to see Charlette’s jiggly bottom in motion, and now presented the perfect opportunity to do so.  Paul knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it would look absolutely glorious in full HD slo-mo.  He’d have to remember that one.<br/><br/>You thinking of doing a porno, Old Man?  You devil, you.<br/><br/>One thing was for certain, however: The fabric of his boxer-briefs was being stretched to its limitations.  Mr. Happy wished to be let loose.  For whatever nerdy reason, Paul likened his impatient organ to a newborn Xenomorph as it was just about to burst through its host’s chest.<br/><br/>"Mmm ... gonna take that thing out and use it?" Charlette asked, the horniness in her voice quite clear to hear.  Now distracted from his<i>Alien vs. Predator </i>daydream, Paul felt compelled to correct and answer her.<br/><br/>“Thing?” he repeated with a chuckle.  “Might you be referring to Francois?  Surely, you’ve met Francois before, Charlette,” he said, clearly enjoying how the tables between them had shifted.<br/><br/>What the fuck are you on about, Old Man?!  Since when is his name Francois?!<br/><br/>Since now.  Shush!<br/><br/>And you know you don’t have one single drop of French blood in you, right?<br/><br/>I said shush!<br/><br/>As his underwear was pulled down only to stop at mattress level, Francois burst forth, dripping something all over the place, including Charlette’s pajama shorts.  Still choosing to leave those shorts on her, Paul had something else in mind.  Drawing the right leg of her garment toward him, Francois casually and stealthily slipped inside (the shorts, not Charlette).<br/><br/>Jelly, if you will, was randomly spread across Charlette’s buns.