I would masturbate furiously, often leaving tell-tale pre-cum and cum stains on her stuff. I know she knew, but she never said anything. I loved the w...y I felt when I was wearing her things...sexy, fem, vulnerable, and so excited! My father carried a satchel to and from work, and it was always full of porn magazines and erotic lit paperbacks, so I had plenty of fantasy material to dress and masturbate too when they were gone. My love affair with porn was born, and even when not dressed I would. I see how your emerald eyes dart to my comparatively large hands and partially exposed biceps. I know that – probably despite yourself – you think my disorderly hipsterish man-bun is pretty; that you like the hard line of my chin, and my muscular jaw. I know from when I stood to help you with your luggage, that you like that I’m tall. I angle toward you. My shoulder into the seat, attempting to accentuate these parts of myself for you. I want you to want me, even though I already know you do.. “Can’t wait till I see you next time”. She blew me a kiss and left. I stayed in the shower for about another fifteen minutes trying to wash off that feeling of yuk. I got out, dressed, collected the laptop and headed to my friend’s house to do the editing. “Damn Mike. I can’t believe the footage that your cameras captured”. He had placed the cameras at every conceivable angle so that there could be no mistake as to who Kristine was and what was being done to her. “High tech stuff buddy” he. After a couple of more moments, Becky responded. "I wasn't really sure what to expect when I made the offer. When you broke up with me, I was devastated. I really had believed that things were fine between us. I was shocked and hurt, and I almost didn't listen to what you were saying."I cried for a long time, and since I couldn't understand it, I tried dissecting our relationship from my perspective, and I still didn't get it. It took me half the night before I started thinking about what you.