Not many guys would do that.I have to admit that I've been having more sexy feelings lately, maybe not more but more focussed. Certainly more centered...on Danny and I, not just guys in general. And, he's leaving a lot of the progress up to me. That means that if we move forward, it's mostly up to me to make the move.Hmm, am I ready for that? I really don't like it when I'm in charge. Maybe it's lack of confidence but I just don't have much experience in boy-girl stuff. I know guys want to charge. He had developed broad, muscular shoulders, like his dad's, and was over six feet tall, while she had 'filled out' with all her womanly curves, and legs long in relation to her body. I found I was holding my breath as I looked at her. Her bosom had definitely grown, her breasts held in place by a strong brassiere, and thrusting forward, challengingly. She wasn't wearing particularly tight clothing either, just an overall dress with no shape to it. Her hair was glossy and neat, while her. I think about it, standing in my undergarments. Jay’s never pushed me beyond what I’m willing to do, and what’s the harm in a heavy make-out session? “I guess it’s fine,” I reply. Then his lips meet my neck, moving up and down from my shoulder to my ear and back. I rest my head sideways, closing my eyes and soaking up the attention. Jay’s hands grip my thighs and he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, holding tight so I don’t fall back. I feel him walking, but I am fully unaware of. Carefully, so carefully, she puts on the make up for the last time, adjusts the wig, touches the cheeks with just a little more colour, the lips with a hint more gloss. The lights around the mirror shine with a stark unforgiving glare, showing every small defect, every crow’s foot and wrinkle, every mile travelled, every tear shed, every bouquet and encore. At last she is satisfied, ready for her audience, ready to make her last entrance. She stands, a little shakily, for she is no longer a.