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. Marco invited him inside the house, a sheet wrapped around himself in some attempt at a toga.“Are we still friends?” Roger asked.“What all did...we do?”“Nothing, you know, I didn’t **** you.”“Whoa, who said anything about ****? I mean, I kind of remember what happened, and if anything I’d probably be the one r****g you,” Marco shot back.“I feel like shit,” Roger said to break the conversation.“Little hair of the dog?”“So we’re still friends?”“Of course we’re still friends. Our partners probably. Brushing aside the dripping locks of my long dark-brown hair, I studied the naked wet pale skinny-looking 22 year-old Plain Jane staring back at me from within the long looking glass."What's with me," I asked myself. "Why am I suddenly feeling like this?"Honestly, I've never thought of myself as a very sexual person. Of course, I'm human and have sexual urges like everyone else. But I've never dwelled or fixated on sexual matters that much, in my life.Sex, in general, was just too much trouble,. . HORRIBLE! I lost count of the dicks that got stuck in me -- and that doesn't count the other abuse! Some guy stuck his FIST up my pussy! Guys peed on me and pulled my nipples and, well, anything they could think of, apparently! It was like every male in creation was getting even with every female -- through me! It went on and on -- and I couldn't even seem to zone out and just take it ... If I wanted to, I could probably remember every stroke -- but who would want to? After what seemed like a.
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