.. well, queer was an out of date word. Gay? He snorted. What did the dresser have to be happy about? AIDS?But the boy stood there staring and the man...ger wondered if he should go over and say something. That particular mannequin had been dressed today in a silken ecru blouse, with a short, short skirt of woolen tweed in navy, with green and red plaiding stripes. She wore bone colored pumps and clutched a vinyl ecru purse to her plaster bosom. Her wig today was that hideous shade of red that no. “Yes I am baby, but you still love me. Now, I’m gonna go take a shower, I’ll be right back.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead. I gathered up my clothes and headed for her bathroom down the hall. After finishing up a quick yet thorough shower, I sauntered back to Brook’s room. I found her face down on the bed, still naked, apparently asleep. “Poor thing,” I chuckled, my face starting to hurt from smiling so broadly. I carefully sat down next to her and looked her body over. Her skin. Fuck. GO....Ok, ya back? You know what i'm getting at now? Good. Now you know not to get your expectations up from this story, but we'll continue anyway.So, I see her, and she's gorgeous. Her hair is short, but it's just that perfect length where you could grab a handful of it and just kiss her into eternity, you know? And her skin. It's not white, but it's not tan. It's cream, there's no other way to say it. This girl is sex, love and rock-and-roll personified. We hit it off right away, go to. This makes you giggle. I put my hands on your waist, and slip them under your tank-top; your skin is warm and smooth. I push my hands up, taking the front of your top with me. Your pale tummy comes into sight as my hands move over your navel, pausing for a second to stroke round it, pushing into the little depression. I linger to feel the gentle rise and fall of your tummy as you breathe in and out. My hands go further up, reaching the place on your chest where the underside of your breasts.