He tried to act cool, gulped down his nerves and said, “And if one of you beat me?”She shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll think of something, wo...’t we girls? Best two out of three?”“Okay, you’re on.”Three glasses of the evil firewater later, Paul and Angela were sitting on her bed, four rooms down from his, and he was cleaning her tonsils with his tongue. She tasted as good as he had imagined—like strawberries and vanilla ice-cream sprinkled with cinnamon. He had one hand on the back of her head. The same thing happenedwith this young boy, who I shall call Jamie (not his real name).Although he would take great pains to hide his chest from others, hefound himself spending hours alone, gazing at his chest in front of themirror. He was both disgusted and fascinated.Wearing a bra only exacerbated this. Because with his breasts fullyfilling this feminine garment, it was if he were almost branded asfemale. Boys do not wear bras. Girls do.Now, this where nurture comes in. In my effort to. So why not enjoy herself? She’d always preferred that type of cock, a nice mouthful with plenty of shaft to stroke while she sucked. But before she could make a grab for it he wanted to play a game. Getting her on the floor on all fours he wanted to ‘pet’ her. ‘Let’s make this even more fun’ he’d said taking out chain-mail panties and a nipple chain that she was happy to wear. When the red leash came out however she got scared. Not done anything like that before, it took a while to persuade her. She got in her car, feeling like such a spoiled brat. After all, her parents gave her so much. She remembered when Ryan had taught her how to drive, and how frustrated they had both been, him especially. But he had still let her learn on his car, and had tried to be so patient with her.But now she was scared to death, and she wanted to turn around and go back. What if he was sure he didn't want her? What if he never believed her?She felt numb as she rang the doorbell. Usually she would have.