When was the last time you shaved?" I was thinking of the answer to that and realise it has been weeks when she rips open my pyjama top."That's not gy...aecomastia darling," the sarcasm is thick, "That's called a B cup."I am in a state of confusion, at her behaviour, at what she is saying, and at the possibility that there could be some truth to it."No sweetie, the only medical condition you've got is 2 X chromosomes. I've got it too!! It's called being a woman!!" But I'm not a woman!" I exclaim. “If you want to take it somewhere with you, feel free,” Lori said. “But this is a private table.”“What’s the matter, you don’t want extra company?” the guy slurred.He looked and sounded like he had already had a few drinks; and he struck me as the typical rich eastern suburbs kid, full of self-entitlement. I had seen too many of them in various classes at Uni; assured that because of their family’s money and position, they automatically could have whatever they wanted.“We’re fine with just the. He pulled her even closer and ground his hipsagainst hers. After a long, hot minute of tonguing oneanother they separated, and Ritchie opened the side doorof the minivan. They took a seat on one of the rear benchseats and resumed their play. Ritchie’s hands were all over Paula. He slid the silkmaterial of her sleep shirt all over her tits. Then heundid the top buttons and pulled her breasts into theopen so he could fondle and softly pinch her nipples.When his hand moved lower, Paula. . With both hands already under the sheet I quickly checked my body, my bra was on firmly and so was my underwear. Again I pieced it together. We'd kissed, then ah fuck, I thought. I could remember I sat over him, his eyes just as blurred as mine. 'I do apologise,' he stuttered again as he realised I got the hang of it. 'No apologies necessary,' I chuckled lightly, 'being drunk does...wonderful things doesn't it.' I turned and smiled back at him. Before Jeremy had the chance to even smile.