"Yes, Christa," I said, trying to use a very deep, father- like voice, "so take off your nighty so I can whomp at your little butt."Christa smiled and...did as she was told and she was now standing in front of me, her hands folded behind her back and naked as a jaybird.As she began to coquettishly twist again, I looked over the little, flat-nippled muffins of her developing breasts and down her little belly to the wisps of blonde hairs over the deep crack of her puffy pussy mound and down her. After getting dressed I usually walked alittle through the house practicing my feminine walking technique.The end always came when I could no longer contain the hardness of mylittle penis inside the tight panties and I would lay on my mother's bedto masturbate.The images that ran through my mind as I pleasured myself were alwayssimilar. Sometimes I imagined that I was an underwear model marching infront of a crowd that looked at me with admiration and desire, but most ofthe times I dreamed that. More

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