THE P**N ARTIST (1)

Caroline could feel their hands running all over her body. Three guys, three pairs of hands, each focusing on a different area of her body.

Three college boys, as good looking as any she'd ever seen. They'd chatted her up at a bar while her friends looked on, and to make them jealous she decided to take off with all of them.

It wasn't until they were in the car on the way back that she had found out their names: Peter, the soccer player, lithe and toned; John, the football player, built and strong; and Jason, the basketball player, muscular, but with soft hands. In the car they'd made small talk, while the sexual tension had built up around them.

They were painfully shy, but Caroline had become

used to it. Most were when they first met her; a 5. 8" brunette with shoulder length hair, 34CC breasts, and legs to die for. Back at Peter's house she had stood in the middle of the living room and said, "So are you guys going to touch me or not?"

"How about it boys? Do you all want to fuck