He grabbed the razor from the holder and had almost bought it to his cheek, just like he did every morning, when he abruptly stopped. His brow furrowe... and a thoughtful look grew on his face as he moved the razor back into his field of view. He looked at it intently for a moment, and then looked beyond the razor, to it’s reflection in the mirror. Two razors. He could see two razors, one real, one a reflection. By the time the razor had hit the sink, Jeff was already out the door. He dashed. The more they drank the dirtier the conversation became and the more they giggled. Pretty soon they were both a bit flustered and incredibly aroused. The alcohol got the better of them and the two best friends became very intimate on their 18th birthday. Despite their initial hesitation they were quickly exploring each other's bodies. Kissing, licking and caressing any bit of flesh they could. They were enjoying themselves so much, moaning loudly at the pleasure they were creating, that they. In the past I had balked at this type of instruction as he and I both knew that our neighbor, Mr. M. would be watching us. I had decided, though, that since life is short, I would rather spend it pleasing my master than angering him with my resistance. Now I felt the afternoon sun on my skin and the blush rising up from my neck to my face. Master wrapped my body in his arms, restoring a portion of my modesty. I buried my face in his neck and sighed as he slowly turned me into the apartment,. I let my stubbornness for classic rock artists fade. I let the value of the new music grow. I wondered how many other musicians I have been discounting. On screen it said that the song was recorded in 2004. I smiled, thinking it was already a classic for most teenagers. It was new to me. I was disappointed when the song ended. Always a sign of a good tune. ‘What else have I missed?’ I asked seriously. ‘Pardon?’ ‘I stopped listening to new music in the early nineties,’ I informed her, ‘I can’t.