." Me too. We can hold each other when they come," she interrupted again." ... and I have a spirit in my head that talks to me, and I'm paranoid about...everything. I probably have PTSD and I'll wake up someday a raving lunatic, or worse." I like Martinez. He visited my head when we were in Florida, you know. I don't care about the paranoia. Have you had any strong feeling of paranoia lately? I don't think so. I think that you were paranoid – note the use of the past tense – because you were. A fucking shroud?? What was this, the sixteenth century? Who wears a shroud to a wedding? And why was no-one getting up to use her? Why was she allowed to walk towards the altar completely unspoiled? It wasn't respect for the sanctity of marriage -- there was fucking going on in the audience and the minister himself had only just finished ejaculating on one of the bridesmaids -- so could it be respect for the bride? But that usually didn't stop anyone, either. Heck, I myself had been one of the. “Ok cool yea sure, sounds good Nicole.” (even though there was obviously more than one bathroom in the house)Damn this was strange. I had never seen Nicole act like this before (actually I had never seen her drink before either). The drinks had evidently shattered her walls on shyness. Her flirtatious attitude toward me caught me off guard making me look at her in a new light. Nicole had soft blonde hair rolled into pigtails with little blue ribbons. She sported a small petite body with very. My heart beat and I felt so much guilt and shame. I walked around aimlessly looking at the toys and dvds, trying desperately not to look at anything "too gay." Finally, my lust overcame my shame. I picked up a medium butt plug and tried to steel myself and walk up to the counter. I put the butt plug on the counter and hoped that the transaction would be quick. Instead, it felt like it took ages. She glanced slowly, painstaking at the butt plug, looked me straight in the eyes for what felt like.