"And can I tell you something?" "What?" I whisper back. I feel your hand brush against my pants. I fight the urge to look, and focus all my energy i... keeping eye-contact with you. "I was impressed," you finish. You begin to rub the front of my jeans, feeling the outline of my hardening cock beneath your fingers. To even the playing field, I return my hand to your breast caressing it through your shirt, drawing delicate rings around your stiffening nipple. You give a soft moan. I look into. After about 10 minutes Nisha suddenly got up from her chair & came and stood beside my chair. Naturally, I moved by chair back and turned it towards where she was standing while I was sitting. To my surprise, she just came and sat on my lap and we continued our chat. Slowly, as we got comfortable I started moving my one hand in her hair and 2nd one was touching her warm & soft hands and feeling her thighs. Again, someone came on the door. But to our luck the door opened quickly and closed back. ..the guy who was interested in me in college theater (I had a girlfriend at the time); the invitation of an open couple that I 'played' with to trade gay play with the husband for a chance to view the same between the wife and her girlfriend (I wasn't sure the 'friend' would keep the secret); more than one older guy I met in the years following college who was just too forward or inconsiderate of other relationships in my life at the time...they were tempting, and I secretly wished to be able. All this was thanks to my older sister, who had lived a wild and carefree teenager's life, a bit too well.They took action, in my case. I came to dislike my parents, intensely. To this day, they never have understood why I dislike them. Some people are just dense, I guess.So, I could not talk to my parents or sister about this... not at all. When I had moved, I had lost contact with my old friends... not that I'd had many.Parents, again.I wracked my brain trying to think of someone who might at.
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