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I prepared myself for my weekly ritual.The shaving cream felt chillyagainst my skin.The blade of the razor felt liberating.It was funny. I wondered if...men who had a real stubble felt anydiscomfort while shaving? I imagined myself having a coarse stubble andthe joy of having to shave it. For me, it was the epitome of manhood.I spoke a few words forcing myself to speak a few octaves lower then Iusually do when I am stressed so that my gender became unambiguous.As I went through the ritual, I. I wrapped my arms around his neck and slid my ass up onto the counter, parting my legs enough to invite his fingers up a little farther. Our mouths locked in a heated embrace; my bosom strained against my blouse, threatening to pop the weakening buttons. I broke the kiss momentarily as I feverishly undid my top. One hand caressed my clit while the other came up to grab hold of my breast. He slid one bra strap out of the way and popped my tit out of its cup. He expertly mouthed my nipple with. More

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