Just a little. But it was definitely there. A kind of panic was trapped in my chest. Trapped by the hand touching my boob through the soft material ...f my pyjamas. However, it wasn’t the hand which was freaking me out. I’d had my boobs fondled before, it was no big deal. What was really freaking me out was the morning wood nestling between my bare ass cheeks. As morning woods went, this was surely a redwood. The thing felt freaking enormous! I smirked into my pillow, taking a mouthful of. I don't care who it fucking is. I want touch...05/06/---CYou know Mom's starting to suspect I am not such a good little girl anymore. Took her long enough. It really kinda hurts me though as I connect what she's talked about as the bad effects of a small town with how I act together. I'm that girl who's willing to throw myself at a boy I only partly like and be unhappy when I get him. I go a step further than mom with her theory, the reason why I do this is because I crave physical touch. . More

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