She looked at his penis. It was hard, now, standing up and leaning drunkenly to one side, and up a little.She could play with that interesting thing ..... if she wanted to. He wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. She could touch it ... or not.She decided she wanted to touch it.She was fascinated. Her fingertips drifted over the heavy sack that held his balls. She’d never had the time ... or inclination, really ... to just look at a man’s balls. There had always been too much hurry going on. "Hi Misty," I smiled. "What are you talking about and why are you wearingguy's clothes?" I'm talking about how you called me a fag for no reason!" he screamed."My name's Pete, not Misty, and I'm wearing guy's clothes because I'm aguy. I thought you were a guy too but I guess I was wrong. Looks likethere's only one fag around here and you're it!"I was so upset that I started to cry."Why are you being so mean?" I sobbed. "I thought we were friends? Didn'twe have a lot of fun shopping at the. More

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