Now, I use it as a social tactic to subversively establish dominance by demonstrating that I don’t give a fuck.She feared this question. Her age was...her least favorite topic of conversation, and she would have rather I asked about her most traumatic life experience, assuming that experience was not someone else asking her age. I sensed this, and perhaps that’s why I asked in the first place.“I forgot,” she said, and punctuated it with a smile.“わかります,” I said, which (I hope) means, “I. Which in this day and age was considered late, and a constant source of frustration for me. I had tried to get a girlfriend for some time, but it never grew beyond a friendship. So eventually I turned to the dark world of Internet dating and chatrooms.At first I tried to get in touch with a girl, but I soon learned that that was quite impossible in these kind of rooms. Thusly I turned to men, telling them that I was a closeted gay teen with no experience.Which, as you may guess, got me a lot of. The old line of "hang in there, it'll get better," is just so much wishful thinking, so much bull shit. I'd resigned myself to putting in my time like everybody else until I realized that I wouldn't be able to be with Jack for a couple of years if I did.But I knew I was going against the grain. It was something people just didn't do. The fact that this sheep didn't want to stay with the flock was going to cause problems. The accepted way to do it would have been to convince Jack, my father and. His fingers were callused and rough, and I felt them between my legs. I slammed my legs closed and he chuckled again, making a tsktsk sound in his throat. He shifted and his knee landed between my thighs, hand and crushing against my small soft legs. It hurt and I struggled, but the only way to stop the discomfort was to open my legs....and I did. He moved then to widen them, keeping me pinned as he spread me wide. I felt so exposed as his hand went to my vagina, and his fingers parted my lips..