The entire situation was hilarious. From the shock and horror of her past self at what she would soon be doing herself to the simple fact that she was...here now to fuck herself, or rather her past self, senseless, the entire thing was ridiculous.“This isn't funny.” Future Clara forced herself to stop laughing. Or she tried to.“It is a little bit. At least from my side.” Past Clara stared at her future self. It was a bit to take in that her future self seemed so cavalier about causing irrevocable. You stepped off the train, looking as nervous as I felt, you looked around, searching the sea of faces for mine. Our eyes locked, and both of our mouths spread into goofy grins, both of us trying hard to pull it back down to something a little less embarrassing. As you walked towards me, I wondered what I should do, hug, kiss, handshake? My time had run out and you were stood right in front of me, without thinking, my arms went around your neck, your arms winding their way around my waist. You. Just as I came down from it, I heard the door open downstairs so I quickly grabbed a couple squirts of breath spray (I didn't want him to catch on just yet), lit a fresh cigarette, laid back with my legs spread wide open and slid my fingers into my sopping wet pussy while I held my other hand up and out to the side.He came up the stairs after just a minute, I heard him ask "Why does it smell like smoke?" just before he walked in to find me. He said "OH!" and I saw his eyes light up, his cock. I think I was just 12 years old and she was 10 when we got caught. She was using a stethoscope to listen to my hear beat, with the listening device on my hard-on!Needless to say, they moved across town shortly after that. We still saw each other in school.In high school, she would often sit next to me and she would talk to me about which guys she liked and what parts of their bodies she liked. I would tell her the same thing about the girls a liked. Overtime, I conversations became more.
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Squatting over the bowl he released a hard stream into the bowl, so quietly that the only sound he could hear over his heart was the old clock ticking
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