"She frowned at me. "Please don't patronize me."I picked up my glasses and held them in front of my eyes, as if I needed them to see her clearly. "It ...oesn't sound like you're trusting me." Our eyes fixed on each other."You're right," she admitted, "OK, I'll take your word for it. I trust you." Good," I said, setting the glasses back down. "Now for the unreasonable part - take your clothes off."Her eyes almost fell out of her head as her arms instinctively covered her chest. "Wha..." She. It was an unusually cool day. She was wearing a pink cotton oxford shirt. It was 1981, and everyone had one or two cotton oxfords in their closet. They were pastel colors with button-down collars. His was light blue. Most of the girls all owned a similar shirt. Some were yellow, some were lavender, and light blue is always popular with the girls as well. But pink was Brent's favorite – and no one wore a pink cotton oxford shirt like she did at that moment.If one were to look back, they could. This story is about our most recent beneficial moment, and it happened two months ago.It was the middle of the day, a chilly day at that, and my father and us were to go and clean out the box truck he had, dubbed Old Blue, since we were to repair a house a few days from then. He had, unfortunately, decided to leave us in the middle of cleaning it out so he could get more supplies from Home Depot, which forced us to communicate more. Half an hour into reorganizing the box truck, my brother. What I saw shocked me, but also turned me on loads. There was a stunning blonde girl who looked about my age, sat on the bonnet of a car with her legs spread. She was playing with some blokes dick with her right hand, and stroking her clit with the other. There were a few other guys standing around them wanking. There were about six cars in the car park, and some of them had couples having sex in.All of a sudden I felt something between my legs. I was wearing a short frilly skirt, and I turned.