And then you slowly but deliberately press my hand upward, until it is gently clasping your breast. We sit like that, watching the last dying moments...of the day. Your bottom molded to my lap, your back pressing into my chest, your shoulder supporting my chin, your hair pressing against my cheek. And your lovely breast filling the palm of my hand, with your fingers closed over mine. A tender gesture of contentment, satisfaction, affection, and understanding. And trust. The last. Stephan, barely standing, was elucidating to all who listened on hissexual life.Nobody listened, the drunken boys staggering forward in silentdetermination not to take to quadruped locomotion.They had spent their ticket fare on White Lightning - public transport wassoooo overrated ...- I can fuck shree times ... no ... four timesh ... yeah four timesh ...every time ... and in the morning ... twish ... I swear by fucking godtwish!His best friends forever left him propped up against a lamp,. More

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