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My Sweater-Meat "Kathie Lee Gifford" Fantasy By Dave D The fantasy fabrication you are about to read has me at age 14. A sweltering mid-August day begins nicely, intense heat progressively captured under the partially clouded yet bright morning sky.
The following is fabricated and "is" a fantasy I’ve had over, and over, and over…
I stumbled over my words but eventually welcomed Kathie Lee to the neighborhood.
Mom sent me downstairs to grab an electrical extension cord. Gifford needed it for reasons not recalled because I was dumbfounded by her imposing appearance. It was a little breezy, and Kathie Lee’s cropped cotton shirt billowed up, exposing only the bottom underside curvature of her pert, tearddrop braless breast.
I paused shyly then yelled sheepishly, "…H-h-hello." I quivered as both came over.
My 5" boner snapped in palpitations under the boxer-type sport shorts that hung from my trim waist.
Just when positioning myself behind the wooden barrier, eyeing up the knothole, the neighbours went indoors. Model car building occupied my mind when I went indoors thereafter. This was my time consumer as every friend was on some sort of weekend trip. My parents & I were eating lunch when the doorbell rang. Minutes passed, voices still carried from the front entrance. Mom noticed my arrival behind the opened door, stopping mid-sentence to introduce me to the person outside. "We need a secluded summer home away from New York," Kathie Lee explained.
I roll outta bed and scratch my yielding balls, doing so as I raise my other hand to shield the bright rays from both weary eyes.