. this is why I keptgetting beaten at my foster home."He had just finished pouring water into the coffee maker and sat thepot back in to catch the cof...ee. "You were beaten because of wanting todress like a woman?" I'm sorry!" I cried. "I know you must hate me for what I've done!" Ifelt myself wanting to take a step away from him, more of a reflexthrough years of conditioning that my former foster family had dealtme. Somehow I stayed my ground, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Raywould be. Just before I sat down, I noticed my nipples in the mirror, hard, maybe from the coolness of the lotion on my naked body, maybe from me touching myself. The moment I remembered the vibe was in my bag, I broke into the biggest smile. I turned the music up in the room, laid down in the bed and closed the top. I began by just touching myself all over, where I’d put the lotion, my sides, my tummy, up to my breasts. Gently I began tugging on my already hard nipples, twisting, pulling, and eventually. More

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