I admit, sometimes I just stood in front of the mirror and jacked off, sniffin on my bushy pits. I tried to keep myself in check, and not brag, or get...a big head about it all. Damm, I had more shit than most seniors. But not just the awesome bod, but life in general. Living the fantasy of taking our Freshman team to a state championship was still unbelievable---there was really no way we should have accomplished that. We lived in a nice house in a moderate neighborhood. I had a lil bro, that. “It’s kinda nice actually.”“See?” Steve withdrew his hand but stayed close on the sofa. “That’s what you do. Just describe what you already know.”“I see.” Amy leaned over a little. “And the same goes for what it feels like from the other side, how my fingers feel, and what they feel.” She reached out and ran her hand slowly and gently up Steve’s thigh, pressing a little harder than he did on her. “Like, how firm your… leg feels beneath the cloth.”“That’s it.” Steve managed to get. More

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