" You have more than enough piano music," her mother said. "If you have to play more songs, learn some more from the hymnal." I know many hymns alread.... I played for the church when Mrs. Deetman couldn't." And we were proud of her, Charles," her mother said suddenly. "Could we afford the new sheet music now?" If both of you are determined."The lyrics were every bit as appropriate as she had thought it was, and every bit as sad. "From this valley, they say you are going," she sang when her. Your searching lips find his in a desperate kiss as his fingers quest inward brazenly. He hears your breath catch as his fingertips brush your little pucker, and he winks, continuing onward, sliding a hand beneath you to brush his fingers down your slit. Your slick heat brings a lump to his throat as you purr in bliss at his exploration. One finger darts inside you slightly, teasingly, and your barely audible gasp makes him smile. Your hips begin their slow, primal dance again, subtle yet. Packed up and on the highway again Chris was more open about his life. It turned out his high school years were a lot like mine: he was picked on and that made him shy. So he never had a girlfriend. And since this was before the Internet was available he had a hard time even learning much about sex. So he jacked off a lot (once he figured out how) and spent a lot time time wondering about sex.Chris had started cross-dressing just a few months before. He told me he wasn't really that into it but. But soon he would start catching up. As a baby and small child his wants were fairly simple. His skin could get irritated, or he could get too hot or too cold, though his desires in that regard were rarely far out of line with Chrissy's. His main source of knowledge about the world was his hearing, although she could teach him a few things about spatial relations by tracing patterns on his skin. He learned to understand the language. He could get bored, so he wanted her to talk to him, or play.