I found them in a back studio-like room. The gaucho was finer fucking Joan. She was glowing with lust. I could hear her wetness and smell her juices. ...er dress was on the floor. There were hickey marks on her breasts. Joan was moaning and grinding on his hand. She saw me and moaned. She murmured, "I had to have him." The gaucho looked over his shoulder at me. I said, "Fuck her. Fuck her now." There was a big bed in the room. He put Joan on the bed and knelt down and started licking and sucking. Once or twice she'd catch me staring, but thanks to my new friendships in high school my confidence was actually building. Instead of looking away and suppressing yet another panic attack like my old self would have surely done, I'd seize the opportunity and flash her a smile and a friendly wave hello. Each time, she'd give one back, without any hesitancy or other signs she thinks I'm a creep in her eyes. We would barely talk, except in drama.Drama usually was business talk. We were usually. More

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