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French Cut Panties
2003-04-03 - 1:25 a.m.


before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

When I was a kid, and I mean six years old, I spent the night at a friends house.

For some reason, in the morning as I changed, I changed my underwear also, likely because my mother had packed a clean pair of everything to go with me.

And I was naked with my friend Chad.  He was naked, too.  He said something about his penis.

"What I like to do," he said, posing in the mirror, "is grab it like this and go WAHH-wa-WAHH-WAHHH", playing air guitar with his cock, and strumming it quite hard.

His sister walked in and I fell to the floor, protecting my 'dignity'.  He tried to convince me to stand up and let her look at my penis.  I refused and she left.  I think there was something incestual going on with them.

He told me how he used to leave 'toilet traps' for his sister, taking a dump in the toilet, using a lot of toilet paper, and not flushing.  He said he caught her all the time.

Then his dad took me home.  We road together, Chad and me.  His dad smelled like a brewery smothered in ciggarettes and coffee.

A pair of pink french cut panties with subtle white lace trim dangled from the radio knobs.  I liked looking at them.


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