Nor did the feminine way I walked and talked and used myhands.What remained foreign, though, was the clothing. It was tight and softand skimpy and a c...nstant reminder that I was a fraud, someonepretending to be someone of the opposite sex. So were the heels and thepurses and the jewelry, especially the earrings.I must admit, though, that I did develop a fondness for sundresses. Theywere cool and airy and their hems whispering against my bare legs mademe feel naughty, sexy, and innocent, all at. He tickles me and excites me. I love to slide my soapy hands over his wonderful body too. Especially his cock. It seems to vibrate when I have it in my hands. I love to watch the white soapy foam drip off the tip. There are pictures something like that in the notebooks.The first day that Coach had him bent over the table, his little legs not even reaching the floor, and inserted the head of his cock in his ass, was a wondrous event. He called Jimmy his “little buddy” and the young gymnast. More

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