" Trust me, they are good. I wouldn't lie."I grinned very lightly."I haven't sent them to you. But it's not whether they're good or bad." Then, why?" ... like Athena's voice. It's soft, feminine, it caresses you like a soft hand."They are too sad. Too real." Like in ... bondage?"I couldn't help but laugh. She was puzzled."No. Like in life. Memories. The present, the future. Even fictional stories. They are killing me. I'm spending nights up, writing things so sad that I sometimes cry, and then I. I ran the brush through my mousy ass hair and tried to pin one side up with a really pretty comb of my mom's. However all I managed to accomplish was stabbing myself in the head with the damn thing (refer to earlier statement about not being a girly girl).I finally went downstairs to get our favorite sodas ready. At 30 minutes on the dot Stacy rang the doorbell. Her arms were loaded with goodies for us to enjoy while we watched all our favorite movies. She had her mom's homemade chicken noodle. The crime was I was thirteen, and she had returned expectantly and had caught us naked in bed.We drove down to the local clinic, where I sat shame-faced waiting on the police surgeon to give me an examination.After an hour or so, this stern faced man, dressed in a tuxedos, arrived, clearly annoyed at being dragged away from the event, but his face and body language changed, when he saw me.Mother spoke at a distance from me so I was out of ear shot, and he read a statement given, all the time. Then she did something that felt really interesting. With my cock nowawake and happy in a hand (the home it knows best), she slid her cockinto the same hand and rubbed them together. Mmmmmmm. That was hot andfelt good, really good.I surrendered my pride, closed my eyes, and savored the attention. Iwas a sissy who needed to be milked by her big TS friend. I was underher control, her big eyes, her wonderful tits, her long legs. She waswonderful to look at and I was ready to cum just looking at.