I insisted. "That's my shirt--give it back!" You never wear it," Sharon dismissed my complaint.Mom backed her up. "It's too small for you." But it's m...ne!" I countered."So why don't you wear it," Sharon stabbed, "and look like a preppy gorilla?"I was ready to rebut and get into it, but further discussion at Sunday dinner with Grandma was forbidden.And in that fashion, my shirt was effectively stolen.The house was empty when I got home from school--Mom was probably off shopping or something. I. I took his hand and guided it to my cock and he gripped his fist round it, too tight at first I winced with both pain and a slight pleasure at the same time he loosened his grip and was gentle as a baby after that, his hand gently moved back and forth moving my foreskin with his hand. My head fell back in awe, I gasped and moaned, he saw my face and smiled then moved faster and harder. I felt like coming there and then, he shocked me saying 'can I taste it?' he barely finished his sentence when. More

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