"Your costumes!" she shouted. "You forgot them this morning." Dare I ask what they are?" I called up as I caught the backpack."You'll have no complain...s," Lenore said with a giggle. She had a smirk on her face.I felt a hand on my shoulder. "We should head in," Coach Durant told me.I allowed Coach Durant to push me forward. Once again I could hear Miss Kirke calling out for Jason. My friend had already disappeared into the locker room."What is up with Miss Kirke?" Coach Durant asked me."She. Well, as time went on, my fantasies became a lot more elaborate, dreaming about girls who I saw at the pool, on the street, or met at a show.One time when I was about twelve years old, I was in my room and really beating my meat. I had a mirror between my legs and was watching the hand jacking off my cock. The event happened I was so afraid of: My mother came into my room to wake me up for school and found me beating my meat. All she said was to get dressed when I was finished. Well, a guy. Upon further consideration - as she poked him in the chest and declared to him matters of his lineage, chemistry of blood, brain size and consistency (both the one above and below), companions and consorts, particular studies of esoteric erotica best left to the imagination; in addition to a very well rounded command of insults mixed in at least ten languages recognize by him – she is quite cute in such a utter rage of feline feminine fury.Her snow white hair dances about her body and face. He could even go farther afield into Maryland or Virginia and visit historical sites. Which might have held some interest if he liked history, which he didn't. With a groan, he sat up. He didn't care about any of that. He cared about Ryan, and it was killing him that they hadn't talked since before she'd left for the tour. How could they fix this if she wouldn’t talk to him? Of course, he thought guiltily, she probably wouldn't talk to him if he didn't make an attempt to talk to her. But when.