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" But you don't go on about it all the time." You never asked, I just try to keep my mind off it. It is still tooweird to deal with. I'm mostly fine with the whole thing. But that iswhat really bothers me. Is there some part of me that truly wanted to bea girl or did the device make me like it? I stay up at night thinking ofthis. So the less I think about it, the better I feel. Now since Ihaven't been with R, who besides the whole sex thing is a blast to hangwith and a good friend, I have been thinking a lot about it." Well excuse me." Don't worry about it, I didn't want you to think I'm losing my mind.Plus I'm still not ready to talk about my feelings and stuff." I'm sure those people would like to hear about it." Not now, maybe later." If it does make you feel better, you are terrible at being a girl." Thanks. Now how do we get out of this?" Maybe we should find the writer."I'M RIGHT HERE."Sorry about the nothing better to do line," Faith said.ACTUALLY I WROTE IT."Right, so. It'd left Liz and I both horny, and we went out after breakfast looking for some fun.Anywhere else we might have failed. They were newcomers and exploring the place. We showed him some of the better sights. The guy I picked, his name was Ken, was dark-haired and a little chunky with a squarish face. His cock was abut average sized, but when you're horny all cocks are well0zized. It isn't a question of how it looks, but what it can do.Ken's cock turned slightly to the right, and I joked that he had me hooked. Guys can be so self-conscious about such things, but he wasn't. He just grinned and bent over to tongue my boobs.Liz and I were lying in opposite directions, so I had a clear view of her pussy. I got really turned on when her partner bent over, nestled the thick head of his cock between her sex lips, and sank partway into her. I couldn't wait for Ken to do the same thing to me. I could feel Liz's eyes on my down there as Ken did.He was okay as a partner. He did show that he knew.
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She motioned to Gary to stay there and opened the door for her father. She greeted him with an enthusiastic hug. At a very healthy 6 foot 3, he was an impressive man on any day, but today he was at the top of his game. The white shirt flashed through the neck of his tuxedo jacket with brilliance. His cufflinks, diamond shape onyx, with a patterned C carved in them, set off the deep black of the tuxedo. He smiled brightly at his daughter, ‘You look wonderful, bay. You never do disappoint, do you?’ ‘Aw. You have to say that!’ ‘No, I don’t. I may be your dad, but I’d tell you if you were ugly.’ They laughed. She knew it was the truth. If anything, her father was the most honest person she knew. Perhaps, that is why she was never much of a convincing liar, herself. She looked back at Gary and grudgingly introduced him, ‘Dad, this is Gary. Gary, my father, James Croix.’ ‘A pleasure to meet you, sir.’ Her father took Gary’s hand briefly and looked him up and down. ‘Sir? Now, what’s going.

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