He smiled and looked up at me.“My my my, Marty, what do we have here, or should I say Mrs. Fisher?” he asked.I stood there with my pants around my...ankles wearing a pair of sheer, French-cut bikini panties that I had stolen out of my wife’s dresser. They were pale pink in color with a tiny pink bow in the center of the waistband. They cradled my small package nicely and made me feel girly all over. I had also shaved my cock, balls, and ass, leaving a small landing strip above my cock. I. And all the guys we pass gawking like cows at a highway! Wishing theywere me, so lucky with a beige babe on the sly!Yeah!A wild thought flinging back to the dudes in my locker room came tomind, all their wild unsubstantiated boasts of screwing cheerleadersand class bimbettes in back stairwells and shit. Just being thirteen Ididn't really have all the dirty stud details, but I gathered enoughfrom ninth-grade jocks about chicks to envisage what having sex waslike and what you did, and while it. More

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