His hands stroked up my back/ down over my waist and hips. He clasped my buttocks. I held him tight and hungrily darted my tongue deep into his mouth. After a while he drew away to catch his breath. I smiled and he began to kiss the side of my neck and upwards towards the lobe of my ear. I could feel his erection pressing against my leg. I giggled and gingerly moved my hand down to touch it through his jeans. It felt so hard. Looking up I realised with mild embarrassment that half the people in the room were watching us. Niece sniggered and made a vulgar fucking gesture with her fingers. *Piss off!* I mouthed. Byron grinned and led me by the hand out of the sitting room and up the stairs. We tried a few rooms but they were all being used for various acts of teenage debauchery. The only space left was the bathroom. My fat ginger pal had obviously been evicted from the bath so Byron and I were alone together. I unbuttoned the top of his jeans and pulled down the zip/ his erection all. "I have something for you. I led her back into the living room."There should really be a drum roll and lights and stuff," I said. "I was going to do this as a special ceremony for our anniversary, but having it a few days early maybe best." I reached across to the coffee table and picked up the book I'd made. "Ellen Preston, This is Your Lies," I said, handing her the leather bound book.“Don’t you mean; This is your Life?”“No.”For the first time this morning she grinned. “It ought to be 'These are your lies'.”That was good, the real Ellen starting to emerge, she always was a grammar nut.“No,” I said, “the book, singular, is a collection of your lies; so the title is ‘This is your lies.’”She started to quickly flip through the pages. Each one she turned over had a different picture of her various escapades on one side and quotations on the other, matching lies against reality, excuse against deed; on each page a version of events as she had told it to me along with the reality of what.
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