The stage was set. I refused to give in and I refused to wear a dress. Iwould not even wear a skirt or blouse or even leggings- I was a boy and Iwould...not wear them. It was my choice and I wouldn't do it.Mom drove me in and dad slipped me a miniature recording device which ourlawyer had already told the principal I would be wearing. I actually hadthree of them as I knew one would be found at some point in the day so Ihedged my bet. I'd wear one on me that was visible, I'd have one in mypocket. Rubbing softly, I stroked her tummy and let my hand slowly move up until I was brushing the undersides of her breasts. She stirred and sighed, then resumed her sleep-breathing.I tried nudging her arm away so I could have full access to her breasts, but it wouldn't move so I began letting my strokes move lower until I was brushing her pubic hair. Her legs were slightly bent, blocking access to her pussy. Lightly, I tried to slip a finger between them, reaching for her slit. She groaned and. More

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