Pulling himself out of her, Keahi basically lifted Sheri onto her knees on the table and moved behind. He reached around, grabbing Sheri’s tits, and...pulled her so her back was against his chest. He very, very slowly pushed his dick back inside of her and started fucking her again. Her left his left arm wrapped around Sheri’s breasts and moved his right hand to start fingering her clit. Sheri’s arms dangled at her sides, then started to caress Keahi’s arms to keep them in position. “Please make. The dress fit perfectly. It had a long slit up one side; no sleeves, a high neck and a heart shaped opening in the bodice. The point of the heart accentuated the newly formed little tits that the bra forced up."Here. Step into these shoes." Casey slid a pair of low heeled, black, open shoes onto his feet. "Move around a little bit now. Let's see how this is going to work."Bob stepped haltingly back and forth in front of the mirror. Wobbling on the low heels, he looked rather ungainly yet he was. I tongued her faster. I pressed my mouth into her pussy, licking and nibbling, I moved my hand up from her ass to probe her pussy. I sank into her hot depths while she humped against me. I pumped in and out of her silky flesh.A strange itch formed in my own pussy. Hot and itching. I squirmed, my hips quaking. I bit my lip, struggling not to get caught up in the excitement of this. My tongue flicked up to her clit, hard and throbbing, begging to be teased. So I did.I teased her. I tongued her. I. Because we were fags.Spazzes. Weirdos. Kids with fucked up haircuts, kids who wore out of fashion clothes, shopped at Goodwill stores and changed clothes when our clothes somehow became in fashion.We were fags.We read tattered secondhand sci-fi books, horror books by Stephen King, and we wrote shitty poetry, graffitied dicks and balls, tags, band names and haikus on bathroom stalls and played in shitty basement bands full of out-of-tune, distorted guitars, off-tempo drumming and shrieking tone.
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