My parents will kill me.”I said, “Not if they don't know.”“Yeah,” Cassie said, opening the bottle. “How will they find out?”Stacy answer...d, “Because I'll be drunk.”“You'll be drunk tonight. Sleep it off and no one will know tomorrow,” Cassie explained. “You'd be amazed by how much I drink before going to bed on any given school night,” Cassie lied.Stacy relaxed and I asked, “What's the game?”Cassie said, “Let's sit down here on the floor,” as she sat down in the middle of the living room. “And. It didn'tmean anything to someone who was nothing but lines of code whether heperformed any certain act in The Matrix. The Agents didn't know deathand they didn't know humiliation.Neo pinched a few strands of his long blonde hair in his fingers andheld it up to the light, admiring the way it shined, almost glowed.What would it mean to him if he did 'it'. As a girl. The kiss alone hadmade him sick. But what worried him was what it would do to him, andwhat would other people think of him if they. Her friend thought that, with the right clothes, she’d fit right in down in Greenwich Village or maybe even the East Village. Vivian was shorter, with longer blonde hair. At this point in her life, she could only imagine herself in The Bronx or one of the other outer boroughs.They sat on the rock. Soon their legs were entwined, and their fingers were in each other’s pants. Cathy, as the more experienced one, soon had a finger on Vivian’s clitoris while her other hand stroked her vulva. A couple. All in all, quite the lingerie catalogue, don't you think?Let your imagination stray to the bed. Come on, it was there already, wasn’t it, you dirty bitch/bastard/non-binary horny fucker (delete as appropriate)? Unless of course you’re still fetishising the items of shed clothing, in which case knock yourself out. No judgement here, we’re all friends. But it’s the activity on the bed that really concerns us… no?There’s a guy–mid-to-late-thirties and sufficiently well-kept that the phrase.