As always the last entry was detailed. Even small events of theprevious day have been written down in a small neat handwriting. Ifsomeone would take a...look it probably would appear if Sean has troublewith his memory. As if he couldn't remember the day before. Which,incidentally, wasn't that far off the truth.After he had carefully read the last entry he stripped out of his boxersand muscle shirt. Sean's preferred sleeping garments. He sighed. So muchfor the PJ's he had recently bought. It was a simple ad, a tranny in Toronto looking for fun time. He saw my ad on Craigslist and decided to message me to see whether or not we could get together or not. His name was Marc, a young black boy who lived in Scarborough. He said he was a shy guy, a virgin, and he watched a lot of tranny videos on the Internet and wanted me to be his first. He told me his family wouldn't be home the whole weekend for a wedding, and he would be alone until Sunday night. As for cost, he said it would be. I pushed it up, lifting the latch, and the door swung inward. The noise or movement brought her out of her trance. She let out a sound that was more of a gasp than a scream as she turned and tried to push the door shut. I leaned in and shoved her back against the toilet with the door. "What are you doing!" She sort of yelped at me. The door was still partially between us pinning her against the toilet. I let up the pressure on the door for a second and pulled her out of the way by the arm. I looked around and wondered if Mr. Johnson was watching from the other side of the fence. The sun hadn’t set yet.Dad removed the two boxes and said that he would show us what was in the box after the inspection.Dad walked me through a short inspection of my sister. He pulled her hair, flicked her ears, played with her cute upturned nose. He grabbed her tongue and pulled it out of her mouth like it was a rubber band and he looked in her mouth. “Look for plaque or white stuff. You probably won’t.