The preparations, the practice runs, the arguments. It had allbeen so worthwhile.As she ascended the stairs she heard a small sound. Like sobbing. ...es,sobbing. She hurried to her room and saw her son, sitting on the end ofher bed, head down, hands over his eyes and crying."Tim, darling, whats the matter? Are you hurt?"Sniffling a reply but not looking up, her son replied "I wish it wereonly that. It's much worse, and I know you will hate me." Don't be silly, darling," she soothed, sitting. We were all dressed pretty comfortable though. Dylan was wearing some sweatpants, and a t-shirt, and Kayla was wearing just zip up hoodie, with some short shorts. The zipper was sitting low, and yes I was staring at her mildly exposed breasts. Unfortunately for me, Kayla stated already on a few occasions how "straight" she was...I call bull shit though because she stares at my tits all the time. Then again, maybe she just wished hers were bigger... I don't know."Wooow Dylan! Such a perv!" I. More

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