I said, “That feels bloody nice to me!”“Me too,” he grinned. “How about unzipping and lowering your jeans so I can see it?”“Somebody mig...t see.”“No they won’t. We’re sitting high up. It will just look like we’re two guys talking.”He unzipped and raised up off the seat and lowered his jeans and underwear to his knees. He raised up his shirt so I had a clear view. His uncut cock was semi hard and about 6 inches in length and pretty fat too. My hand wrapped around his cock and stroked it up and. "My own boobs! And no beard! I touched myself to feel what a girl feelslike, then got dressed. I was beyond thrilled, but mom cautioned mebecause she had as yet not managed to figure out how to get me enrolledin middle school. The minute we got home and I was safely in my bedroom Istripped so I could see my new parts. Using a mirror I saw what I saw onthe Internet. I got dressed and was about to leave my room when mom camein and I got the how to stay clean talk. Then she told me that I. He was, obviously, the owner of the old bike outside, and I looked at him as I approached. My mind – obviously I didn’t say anything – said ‘nerd’. He was skinny and tall, as far as I could tell. He looked clean, but, again obviously, didn’t take a lot of trouble over his appearance. Glasses – far from fashionable – a beard and hair apparently trimmed down more or less evenly with clippers. Face and hands somewhat weathered. Generic shirt under a light high-vis jacket.He looked up as I got. I am one of those guys who takes considerable pride in never having to "pay for it." The number of times I've visited a paid professional for sex is easy to remember: twice. Both times, I was 18 years old and serving in the Marine Corps, stationed in Southern California. Both times, it had been Mexican girls from Tijuana who had given me their "virginity."Both times, I'd gotten my ashes hauled well enough, and, having the good sense to wear protection, I hadn't carried home any diseases. The.