Normally we joked around and genuinely had a lot of fun together. But know I had a hard time making eye contact and I seemed to keep the conversations...kinda short; enough so that he finally called me on it. He asked me what was wrong, had he done something to piss me off? I told him ‘No, naturally. I couldn’t tell him that I couldn’t stop thinking about his dick and that thinking about it made me feel, I don’t know funny.I mean it’s not like I wanted to have sex with him. I just thought about. I still had no idea what to do with my life. I had applied to a couple of colleges using the "general studies" major, which basically meant "I don't have a clue," but which made everybody feel better because I was in a box, rather than floating aimlessly.Then during senior week somebody pulled a prank that got out of control. What was supposed to be a small fire that would make enough smoke to set all the alarms off, melted the trash can and set some cardboard boxes ablaze. That caught. One day I gained some courage to tell her that she is looking amazing in sarees..She smiled and said thank you..This gave me courage to move forward to our relationship..I started admiring her and she responded well..Next day morning I was waiting down the stairs for her..Her husband went down to pick the bike..She came down and I stopped her at the stairs and said that I want to tell u something..She smiled and asked what..I said u look damn hot and hugged her holding her hip with my right. I was wearing just jeans and a red plaid shirt. But as soon as I got inside, all the guys started pointing at me and laughing at me. I looked down. "Why are you dressed like a little faggot?" one of them said. I was wearing my white silk chiffon dress. I mean, my sister's dress, oh the hell with it, it's my dream, it's my dress. I tried to cover myself up, I tried to tell them it wasn't my fault, but they started surrounding me, calling me faggot and fairy, pulling at my dress. Then I heard.
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