"That'sreally not necessary, Julie," Mistress Stacy said. Mistress Lynda lookedat me sternly again and I moved over behind where Mistress Stacy wassit...ing and began to rub her shoulders. I had much practice at this, asI massaged Mistress Lynda every night. Although she was veryuncomfortable being touched by me, Mistress Stacy soon began to relaxunder my expert touch. At first, she was so tense from my touch that Ithought every muscle in the shoulders and neck were about to explode,but within 30. .and we had a good time. this was many years ago so you can imagine the stigma that would be put on us had we shown any interest in m2m sex. queers were queers and we were all young macho guys (no one knew what the hell "macho" was then, of course)..we played ball and talked about girls and were just normal teens, albeit in a military school for boys - a good military school.there was one k** from an island off the atlantic coast that was named artie (not his real name, of course)..he was good. I snuck a peek at her butt and saw a little bit of a thong showing over the top of her shorts. She was wearing a blue hoody. I looked up and saw that she had really short brown hair. I tried to see her face, when she stood up. A box fell from her hands and onto the floor. Being the nice guy that I am, I picked it up for her. She faced me.I looked at her face. I was a man. No make-up. Eye brows were tweezed, but the face was clearly male. I handed the box over to him, and didn’t notice it was a. Six of the biker guys pulled the casket out and rolled it on an expandable cart toward the open hole that awaited it. Shania and I were ushered to a row of chairs right next to the railing that surrounded the hole. “Ten more minutes,” I whispered into her delicate ear. She nodded slightly, gripped my hand with her own, and didn’t let go. The sad-faced guy mouthed some more words about resurrection and commending the body to the ground. A couple of the dead guy’s buddies passed by and put cloth.