Of course whatever bathsoaps and shampoos she bought were for girls, and whenever I used them Iended up smelling like I'd used bodywash or put on perf...me - which ofcourse really didn't help me fit in with the other boys at school.As a kind of protest I let my hair grow long and never bothered to keepit neat looking because I knew that really pissed off my Mom. By thetime I was in sixth grade my hair was so long that it hung just below myshoulders and was kind of a greasy dark black color. To. It shown the very moment he and she laid their eyes upon each other. This is their story. This is the road to their love, happiness and gratification. Their own place that they can call home for it is home. A home that is filled with the warmth when someone cares when you are down, when they say one word or give one look that picks the other back up and keeps them going. Home is not the place you pay for or lay your head but what you feel deep inside, deep inside your very soul and life force.. , giggling smiling her oretty ass up taking all the cum we were both full of cum licking his cock thanking him his hand on our wet cunt a finger teasing us both ''you sissies are so much fun''he started fingering us faster and we moan kissing on his his bbc on our faces, kissing it too , making him hard again , wanting more cum little sissy boys trained to please bbcby lunch time the next day Mike was home, talking with his cousin his bbc worshipped by us sit on our pink princess pillow our bbc. My asshole was like a vicegrip on his dick. The fit was so tight, that he thought it might squeeze him so hard he lost circulation. But, also, it was soft. The wall of my passage were warm, slick, and velvety, and there was no way Hank was going to let this opportunity pass without fulfilling each and every need. His needs included a need to dominate, to violate, to control and to create pain for his pleasure. His enormous dick into my young asshole was definitely violation, and his control.