I would do my homework and feel asthough Amanda was doing it for me. Strangely though, my handwritingimproved as Amanda would write one of my assignme...ts. More than once, Iwas asked, by my teacher, who wrote my paper for me? My writing hadbecome feminine and flowing when I was, Amanda, and remained somewhatmessy when I was, Mark. My excuse was that my mother wanted me toimprove my writing skills before I entered the eighth grade.I think the hardest parts of my day were when I became, Amanda,. “Hello. How are you doing?” He asked with a grin. “Really good, and yourself?” I replied. “Surviving, you know how it goes.”I couldn’t help but look down at his crotch, being that he’d dropped by so that I would suck him off. We talked for a bit, during which time I told him about my dinner plans. I also leaned forward and groped the long dick in his pants while he sat on the chair. Then I asked if he was willing to stay until I was finished and I even invited him to share my meal. That. More

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