You dont need a t-shirt for this. Neither do I really. I pulled off her T-shirt and threw mine away too. I looked a moment at the creature in front of...me. So tiny, so adorable. Her little pink nipples on her flat chest. Her little bald mound hiding her sweet pink pussy. I knew that what I was doing was very wrong, but I couldnt have stopped for all the gold in the world. Now, were going to start with the balls ok? She nodded, excited to be going. Alright, I want you, very carefully, to cup. I vaguely recalled that shortly after I left home to find work the other side of the country, Jazz had married – a showman, I understood – in a travelling circus. Every few weeks, the whole kit and caboodle would move on, a convoy of trucks loaded with dismantled rides – dodgems, waltzers, chairoplanes, and so on – and towing the big caravans in which the circus staff, including Jazz and her husband, lived.A consequence of this peripatetic existence was that she and I had lost touch, mobile. More

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