In Plain Sight – Part 5
by
Caliboy1991
Sweat dripped from his nose onto his shirt as Asher pushed his mountain bike through the front door. The cool air felt like walking into an icehouse after the near one-hundred-degree heat outside. He left the door open as Tate pushed her bike into the apartment, too. Some of the residents of the apartment complex weren’t much on private property rights. You locked your car at night, and you didn’t leave valuables, like a bicycle outside.
Once Tate leaned her bike against his, Asher headed toward his bedroom, where he stripped off his soaking wet shirt and tossed it in a pile of clothes. It was the closest thing he had to a hamper. The chilled air felt wonderful on his bare skin.
“Ahem,” a small voice from behind said, “I don’t know why you insisted on Subway sandwiches. You’ve got plenty of food here.”
Asher turned and took the offered sandwich bag as Tate’s eyes roamed over his room. It wasn’t much, but this was the first time she’d seen his bedroom. She went around him and looked at the small collection of books he finally had unpacked and put on the bookshelf. “Oh, cool, you read fantasy books?”
He wasn’t a big reader, but in the government facility, sometimes it was read a book or stare at the drably painted walls. He had discovered Piers Anthony in the facility’s library, and now, most of his books were from that author or others like him.
“Some. You want to watch TV while we eat?”
Tate grabbed a book and came over and sat on the edge of his bed as she read the back cover. “Can we eat in here?”
Asher didn’t mind the girl seeing his bedroom. Aside from the pile of clothes, it was clean enough. He dropped the bag of food on the bed and returned a moment later with a couple of water bottles. Tate had scooted further onto the bed as she fanned herself with her sweaty T-shirt, the book momentarily forgotten.
Asher handed her one of the bottles of water. He felt bad seeing Tate sweltering in her T-shirt, wet hair pasted to her forehead. He grabbed a paper napkin from the Subway bag and leaned forward, and dabbed at her forehead, “Get comfortable if you want. I did.”
He smiled goofily, flexing his muscles in front of his bare chest. It was ridiculous, he knew. But it had the desired effect as Tate laughed. Then she pulled at the hem of her shirt, before letting it fall on the carpeted floor.
As they tore into their subs, Asher enjoyed watching Tate’s chest. Smaller even than his own nipples, she looked so much like Peter that it made him twinge in the tight confines of his shorts. Of course, she was looking at him, as well.
After one bite, she said, “What’cha looking at?”
He felt comfortable enough with her to answer at least partially truthful, “You’re really pretty.”
Tate’s eyes fell to the bedspread as she blushed. “You don’t really think that, do you? The girls at college are going to be very pretty with their big boobs,” her voice fell to barely a whisper, “or is it because I look like a boy?”
Asher nearly choked on his sub. Even he didn’t know what drew him to her. Had he said or done something to telegraph what he liked?
In a voice equally low, he said, “I really do like you, Tate. A lot. Is it possible that you’re the cutest looking boy in the world? Or maybe because I like you just because you’re you. What matters is that I’m your friend. Right?
Tate’s eyes seemed to pierce his as she eventually nodded.
He said, “As your friend, I want you to know I think you’re pretty. I don’t care about college girls,… or other boys.”
“Thanks,” Tate said as her eyes returned to a spot on the bed, not daring to look him in the eye after that intense gaze.
After a long silence, Asher said, “What’re you thinking?”
He could barely see her lips curling into a smile as Tate continued looking down. “Mm, nothing.”
Asher took the last bite of his sandwich, and when he finished, he said, “Come on, I really opened up to you.”
Finally, Tate’s eyes moved upward. He could feel her gaze as her eyes slowly climbed from his legs, to his crotch, then to his chest, and finally to his eyes. “You’ll think I’m a silly little girl.”
The eighteen-year-old reached across the space between them and gently took hold of her chin, “No, you’re my friend, and I’d never think of you like that, Tate.”
Clearly flustered, the girl stammered, “It’s just…I know you’re… But you’re so…”
Her voice kept trailing off, seemingly unable to finish her thought. Asher took one of her hands, “It’s okay, whatever it is, I’m not going to be upset or think less of you.”
Tate took a long drink from the water bottle, then she said, “I know that you’re eighteen. Heck, you showed me your driver’s license. But I can’t think of you like that. You know… grown up. You look like you’re twelve or thirteen, and that’s how I think of you. I told you, it’s silly.”
Asher hadn’t expected that answer. In a way, it was cute. But it was also messed up. He was drawn to her because she looked like a young boy. And she was drawn to him because he looked like a young teenage boy. He said, “No, it’s not silly, Tate. I think it’s cute.”
Tate finally smiled, “Thanks. Are you sure you don’t mind?
“Mind what?”
“Looking twelve. No hair and stuff,” Tate admitted.
It was Asher’s turn to turn red as he mumbled, “I do have some hair, you know.”
Tate’s eyes zeroed onto his crotch for a moment before her eyes found his, “I just thought… your arms and chest…”
Her voice trailed away as Asher realized the talk about his pubic hair made his penis poke against his shorts again. With her eyes fixed on it, there was no way she missed seeing the bulge.
Long minutes passed before he found his voice, “What do you want to do? Go swimming?”
Her eyes flickered toward his face before returning to the bulge. She stammered, “Um, c-can I s-see it?”
Hearing those words from her mouth made Asher even harder if that was possible. Nobody had seen him down there since Peter. He’d eventually grown comfortable enough with the twelve-year-old to let him see how he’d been mutilated at the hands of the Syndicate. One of the effects of having his testes removed when he was ten was that the scrotal tissue never grew. It was just a small flap of skin below the base of his penis. But few things showed you were a man more than heavy balls swinging low below a massive erection. That was one of the things that he liked about Peter. The boy hadn’t cared. He was just as happy to go down on Asher’s erection as Asher had been to go down on his.
Still, Asher couldn’t deny the way Tate made him feel. With more trepidation than he’d felt since his rescue from the Syndicate, he rolled off the bed and faced the girl as his fingers unfastened his shorts. He let his shorts fall to the floor while leaving his boxers in place. Tate moved over, hanging her feet off the side of the bed, her face within an arm’s length of him.
His voice shook, “A-are you sure?”
Tate turned her face upwards and nodded.
With that nod as his permission, Asher gripped the elastic band and pulled down. A couple of inches and a few of his errant dark brown strands appeared. Another inch and his base was visible to the girl’s eyes. A few more inches and his erection popped free from the confines of his boxers.
“Wow,” Tate exclaimed.
With nothing to hide anymore, Asher let the boxers fall to the floor as the girl looked on.
“It’s really big,” she eventually said.
There were few things she could have said that would have made Asher feel really good. And that was one of them. Sure, he knew he was small, well below average as just five inches. Still, Tate didn’t seem to care.
Then it hit him. He’d just exposed himself to a nine-year-old girl. Not ten, no matter how close her birthday might be. Nine. Perhaps he was golden, and there was very little he couldn’t get away with given how much the government needed his testimony. But he really didn’t want to test that. His face flushed, he crossed the small hallway to the bathroom and found the shorts he’d swam in the previous day. They were up, over his hips before he returned to his bedroom.
Tate almost looked dazed, “Yours is a lot nicer than Dwayne’s.”
So that’s who the second penis had belonged to. No matter how weirded out he felt, Asher would never let that happen again. “Thanks. You left your swimming stuff over here yesterday.”
Tate nodded as she climbed to her feet. She pursed her lips, and then she gave a tiny nod before she pulled her shorts down. When she stepped out of them, Asher’s eyes came back to the plain cotton panties she wore. It was a bit of a letdown. He’d expected her to wear a pair of boy’s tighty whities, although why she would made no sense.
Then she pulled her panties down. What had been hinted at the previous day, hidden behind the yellow material of her swimsuit, was on full display now. The tip of her slit was visible beneath her puffy smooth mons pubis.
She gazed at Asher, uncertainty in her eyes. There are few things more nerve-wracking than letting someone you like see you naked for the first time. Yet she managed a grin before she pulled on the swimming shorts from the previous day.
An uncertainty to her smile only increased the allure Tate held in Asher’s mind as he said, “Are you ready to teach me how to swim?”
The girl nodded, “Yeah. Let me get the sunscreen.”
She was back in a flash with the tube. While the hesitancy remained, there was also something else in the girl’s eyes, “Can I put it on you?”
Asher’s erection had never gone away, and as he nodded, he felt it stir inside his shorts. He faced away from the girl as he heard a farting noise from the tube as Tate put some goop on her hands. Reflexively, he shuddered at the cold touch, but the girl’s hands moved fast, spreading the sunblock all over his back. When Tate’s fingers touched his shorts, he turned around and let her apply the stuff to his chest. Her hands moved slowly, almost like she enjoyed the touch of her hands against his chest.
When the girl’s fingers brushed against the elastic band, Asher, still erect as ever, gently pulled on his shorts, lowering them a couple of inches. Tate giggled as her fingers rubbed the lotion on his newly exposed skin. Her fingers stopped when the first few strands of hair appeared.
“Sorry,” Asher said, leaving his shorts pulled down a few inches.
Tate exhaled slowly, “I’ve never touched a boy this low on the belly before.”
After a long moment, her fingers, still covered with sunscreen lotion, caressed the exposed silky hairs. “Your hairs feel weird, Ash.”
“Bad weird?”
Tate shrugged, “No, just different.”
Despite Tate’s initial reaction to his pubes, Asher slid his shorts down another inch, exposing more hair as well as the contour of the base of his shaft. The rest of his penis was pushed down, nearly laying even with his legs to keep his shorts from tenting.
The youth’s skin tingled from the girl’s hesitant touch as her fingers threaded through his short silky hairs. He flinched when the tip of her finger grazed the base of his penis. The jolt must have been too much for Tate, as her hands retreated. Her voice was breathless, “Your turn, Ash.”
Pulling his shorts back to his hips, he took the tube and was soon slathering the girl’s back with the lotion. When Asher reached the hem of her shorts, Tate turned around. Even though it was only the second time, Asher’s fingers felt a familiarity with the boyish body. Perhaps he spent more time than needed smearing the lotion over Tate’s tiny nipple. She didn’t complain. If anything, she leaned into his hands.
When he reached the hem of the girl’s shorts, Asher glanced into Tate’s eyes, “Are we done?”
The girl’s hands shook when she grabbed her shorts and pulled on them a bit, exposing another inch of skin. Asher worried part of Tate’s appeal was her boyish figure, notwithstanding seeing all of her a few minutes earlier. How would his body react to her… how did she call it? Her puss.
Asher’s fingers went lower with each tug of Tate’s shorts, until she’d exposed four inches of her skin. Most of her pubic area was exposed, and his fingers touching her in such a delicate and private place felt electrical. Then, when his fingers brushed the waistband again, Tate pulled a bit more, and Asher gasped when the edge of her slit came into view.
He needn’t have worried that she wasn’t boyish enough. Asher’s penis strained against his shorts as he drank in the puffiness surrounding the tip of Tate’s slit. Although neither looked at the other’s face, both pulled back as the girl pulled her shorts up.
As Tate headed over to his bedroom door, her chest rose and fell as though she were out of breath. “I didn’t know putting on sunblock could be, um, so fun.”
Asher chuckled, wiping the remaining sunscreen onto his torso as he followed the girl.
They were halfway across the parking lot between Asher’s place and the pool when Tate froze up. It took a moment, but then the youth saw what caught her attention. Ron and Dwayne were riding their skateboards on the asphalt surface. Even Asher groaned when he saw the two bullies veer toward them.
He felt naked in just his shorts and sandals when the boys drew near. They’d obviously seen Tate based on Fatso’s leering eyes. When the boys stopped a few steps away, there was, Asher thought, a glimmer of fear in Fatso’s eyes.
Acne Face sneered, “Coming out to give Dwayne and me a show, flashing your little titties around, Tatum O’Twat-face?”
Asher wasn’t a particularly great fighter. The boys under the thumb of the Syndicate were beaten into submission if they showed too much of a spark. Still, not being a particularly great fighter didn’t mean Asher was bad, either. He stepped between the girl and her tormenter, “Why don’t you go steal your sister’s Clearasil and work on your pimples, asshole.”
Acne Face hadn’t forgotten the kick between his legs either as fear crept into his eyes. Asher took a step forward and was rewarded with both young teenagers stepping back.
When he managed to find his voice, he said, “I wonder what Tatum O’Twat-face’s mom would say if she knew she was running around topless with some teenager.”
Asher felt a jolt of adrenaline shoot through him as he closed the gap. Grabbing a fistful of the boy’s shirt, he growled, “I will dig a grave and bury you in it if you say anything more than ‘have a nice day’ to Tate.”
He let the smaller boy go. Then he reached out and grabbed the heavier boy, Dwayne. “The same goes for you. And if you go around flashing your dick at her, I’ll cut it off and shove it down your throat.”
When Asher let Dwayne go, both boys backpedaled until they could turn, jump on their skateboards and get away.
Asher’s heart was pounding in his chest when he felt a smaller hand slide into his. Glancing down, he saw Tate looking up at him with something approaching hero worship. “I hope I never see either of them ever again.”
Shaking his head as he let the girl pull him toward the swimming pool, he said, “If they fuck with you, Tate, tell me. If that doesn’t put some fear in them, then I will kick their asses.”
By the time they slipped off their sandals and got into the shallow water, Asher had pushed the run-in out of his mind. He really wanted to learn how to swim.
They stayed and practiced the freestyle stroke, with Asher standing in the shallow end, practicing the stroke with his body bent over, face in the water. A sense of elation surged through him when he managed to combine the kicking he learned the day before with the freestyle stroke when the same woman from the day before came into the pool area with her toddlers in tow.
Asher waited until Tate climbed a ladder and got out before he pushed himself off from the opposite side of the pool, kicking his legs and using precise freestyle strokes to reach the ladder. With his hands on the stainless-steel ladder, he said, “How’d I do?”
With eyes shining, Tate practically danced in place, “That was really good. Next time we come swimming, you’ll be able to swim just about anywhere in the pool.”
Walking back to his apartment, Asher kept his eyes open. He trusted Acne Face and Fatso about as far as he could throw the heavier one. He must have scared them off. For now. When he opened the door, he let Tate go first and then made sure to throw the deadbolt home when he closed the door.
Feeling safe, he said, “Does your mom come home on Fridays?”
Tate shrugged as she found a towel and spread it across the couch, “Sometimes. If she does, it’s just to freshen up for her date with her boss.”
Asher realized how much he loved hanging around with the girl. They’d already spent several hours riding their bikes, eating, and swimming. And he could hardly wait to spend the rest of the day with her. “What time does she usually get home after her date?”
Tate shrugged, “Hard to say. Sometimes she doesn’t show up until Saturday afternoon. Other times, she’s home by one or two.”
Tate flipped through different shows on Netflix as Asher stepped over her legs and settled in beside her. Before the girl could nestle her head against his arm, he slid his arm around her shoulder. For reasons he didn’t understand, each day with Tate was a little better than the one before.
Once she settled for one of the Monsters, Inc. movies, Tate snuggled up even closer to him, wrapping an arm around his belly as Sullivan and Mike went through their antics on the flat-screen. As the movie progressed, Asher felt the girl relax, almost melting against him. Even her hand, once on his chest slid down, until it rested on his lower belly, just above his shorts. A glance down showed the girl’s focus was on the movie. Maybe with each passing moment, she grew more comfortable with their friendship, too.
When the movie was over, Tate’s fingers found his short’s waistband. It was just a short distance of a couple of inches to stretched material at his crotch. No sooner had the girl’s fingers touched the taut fabric than her fingers retreated. “Um, Ash?”
The youth stared down at his crotch. Straining against the fabric for as long as it had, his erection hurt. Part of him wanted nothing more than to pull his five inches out, relieve the pressure, and then jack off until the tension inside was gone. “Um-hmm?”
“Is your wiener hard?”
“Yeah.”
Tate’s fingers brushed the material again, sending tingling sensations radiating out from her touch. “Why’s it get hard?”
There was an innocent curiosity to Tate’s question, and it reminded Asher the girl his arm was hugging was only nine…almost ten. The only sex education she’d gotten was what she’d seen around the apartment complex.
He was entirely unsuited to answer her questions. His own introduction to sex had been painful and violent. By the time he was Tate’s age, Asher had already been turned into one of the Syndicate’s fuck-toys. What he felt for Tate compelled him to answer. “It gets hard a lot when a boy goes through puberty. What do you know about puberty?”
Resting her hand on his bare skin above his shorts, Tate said, “That’s when I’ll get boobs and hair on my, um, puss.”
Asher nodded as his right arm stroked the girl’s shoulder, “Something similar happens to boys. We get hair down there, too. Instead of boobs, though, our, um, wieners get hard a lot.”
“So that’s why Dwayne’s wiener was sticking out in front of him,” Tate said.
Feeling anger welling from within, Asher felt a need to protect the girl from Ron and Dwayne. “That day he showed it to you, did he make you touch him?”
Tate’s hand moved in a small circle on his belly, “No. That would have been gross. When he pulled his shorts down, and his wiener stuck out, there was a lot of hair. He tried to get me to touch it, but I stepped on Ron’s foot, and he let me go, and I ran over to Mrs. Jenkins.”
Asher picked up the remote control and started cycling through shows on Netflix as the girl’s hand continued to rub his belly. After a long moment, she said, “It can’t be fun having your wiener getting hard all the time.”
The teenager couldn’t help but laugh. His greatest pleasure came from his orgasms. Getting hard certainly led to some fun times. Then he remembered the incessant erections he had shortly after they started giving him testosterone shots. The number of times he’d gotten a boner in one of the classrooms were too many to count. Still, when he’d returned to his room, taking care of his growing erection had been fun.
The girl was looking up at him with a curious expression. Asher said, “Oh, I don’t know. It can be fun.”
“How’s that?”
Asher liked Tate and knew that even though she wasn’t a boy, he still wanted to share part of himself, just like he had with Peter. Even so, he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of jacking off in front of her. Not yet. He thought about one of the girls who had been in his English class the last year he had been in the facility. One of the reasons he didn’t like her much was because she had no filter. That’s how he learned that some girls masturbated almost as much as boys did.
Thinking back on that revelation, Asher said, “Have you ever played with your, uh, puss?”
Tate’s face turned scarlet as she gave a tiny nod. Asher continued, “Well, boys do something similar to make themselves feel good.”
Tate’s eyes grew round, “Oh. Does it feel as good as when I…”
Her words faded away as she realized she had just admitted to playing with herself. To Asher, there was nothing more adorable than the look on her face. He had no idea what a girl felt when she masturbated. Still, he nodded, “Yeah. I imagine so. Any other questions?”
With cheeks still flushed red, Tate shook her head as Asher found another show and hit the play button. By the time it ended, the time was after five-thirty. The girl untangled herself from Asher, “I better be home just in case Mom swings by before her date.”
Asher gestured toward her chest, “You going out there like that?”
Tate giggled as she ran into the teenager’s bedroom and returned with her T-shirt in hand. She put her other hand on her hip and smirked, “I think you like me like this, Ash.”
Asher couldn’t repress a smile, “Yeah. I think you like it too, Tate.”
Scarlet seemed like the permanent shade of her cheeks as the girl slipped the T-shirt over her head. Asher laughed when he saw what was written across the front: I don’t suffer from insanity; I enjoy every minute of it.
After the girl left, Asher headed toward the shower. He could smell the chlorine on his body. In the bathroom, he stared at his reflection. Even though he’d gained four inches in height since he’d started taking the testosterone treatments, his face and chest were still boyish. His shoulders were barely wider than his hips, and there was only a hint of muscle tone. He could see how Tate mistook him for a younger boy.
When he pulled his shorts off, he ran his fingers through the sparse hair at the base of his penis. He’d been delighted that first time, lying in bed in the government facility, when he felt the first strand of hair. He’d been almost seventeen and had been taking hormone treatments for most of a year by then. Every new hair was a sign of maturation. Of leaving boyhood behind. It was proving to be a long process. By now, he had expected to see hair under his arms and along his legs. Perhaps even more above his penis.
What he hadn’t expected when he left the government facility and found himself at the tender mercies of the US Marshals Service, was to meet Tate. Despite her boyish physique, she was a girl. What Asher felt for her was every bit as real as what he’d once felt for Peter. Moreover, she had similar feelings for him. And even though she tried to show that she liked Asher just the way he was, he could tell that she was bothered by his pubic hair, sparse though it was. That had become clear when she’d told him about how Dwayne exposed his hairy dick.
Holding her, like he had, Asher had felt her physical revulsion when Tate recounted the run-in with the bullies.
Heaving a heavy sigh, there was only one thing Asher wanted more than to run his fingers through his pubic hair, and that was to please the girl who was capturing his heart. Opening the drawer under the sink, Asher found the grooming kit he’d gotten for last Christmas. Why adults insisted on giving stuff like that as presents was beyond his understanding. Still, he opened the kit and pulled out some tweezers.
Retreating to the toilet, he sat down and bent over and used the tweezers to pluck one of his pubes. It stung as he extracted it. Holding it up, there was a short waxy bit shaped like a tiny bulb that had been below the surface in addition to the inch of exposed hair.
“Shit, that stings,” Asher muttered as he flicked the strand into the toilet. He wanted Tate to feel more comfortable with his body, and if getting rid of his sparse patch would make her feel better, then he’d endure a bit of pain for her.
A few minutes later and he’d plucked a couple of dozen hairs. Given how little hair he had, the amount removed made a big difference. Running his hand over the tweezed area, it felt smooth, even though the skin was a bit redder than normal. After a few more hairs, for the first time, Asher was glad he didn’t have a lot of pubic hair. If he had been blessed with more hair on his body, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to continue. As it was, removing a hundred silky strands of hair was going to be painful enough. Five hundred? A thousand? God, no.
By the time he was down to a few stray strands, Asher’s hands were shaking, making it harder to grip the hair with the tweezers. Why the hell would anyone do this?
Then he thought of Tate and knew why he put up with the pain. A few more plucks, and he ran his fingers over his pubic area. Despite the tender redness, the area was smooth. As smooth as it had been before the testosterone treatments.
When he realized how long it had taken to pluck the hundred or so follicles, Asher hurried into the shower. He wasn’t sure how long until Tate returned, but he wanted to be clean and dressed. The stinging of the hot water gave way to a soothing feeling on his pubic area, and by the time Asher finished, the redness had mostly faded.
He was drying off when he heard a knock at the door. Swearing under his breath, Asher wrapped the towel around his waist and hurried to the door. A quick look through the peephole showed Tate standing outside. She had her little backpack hanging off one shoulder as she shifted from one foot to the other.
Feeling exposed in just a towel, Asher swung the door open. Tate’s eyes grew round, and her hand flew to her mouth as she suppressed a giggle. Torn between arousal and embarrassment, the eighteen-year-old waved the girl inside.
“I just finished showering when you knocked. I wanted to get rid of the chlorine.”
Tate’s eyes ran down his body as she stepped inside. “I wish I’d thought of that. My hair smells of it, too.”
She set her little backpack on the small dining table next to the kitchen. “Mom came home at six, but she didn’t stay long. She packed an overnight bag. I think she’s spending the night with her boss. Told me to call Mrs. Jenkins if I needed anything.”
Still holding the ends of the towel together, Asher smiled at the news. “Cool. No curfew tonight.”
Tate came back over to him, smiling, “What’s a curfew?”
Asher felt her eyes on him as he tried to ignore the stirring between his legs. “A curfew means you need to get home before a certain time. Kind of like Cinderella at the ball.”
Before Asher could so much as respond, Tate closed in and put her arms around his neck. Craning her neck up, she leaned forward until her lips touched his. Surprised by the sudden kiss, Asher’s lips didn’t respond before the girl’s lips pulled back. Furiously blushing, the girl said, “Does that make you my Prince Charming?”
Asher found himself blushing at the awkward kiss. “Do you want me to be?”
Tate nodded as she leaned forward again. When her lips touched his, this time Asher responded, kissing her back. He’d never kissed a girl before, and it was evident the girl had only the vaguest idea of what to do. When the second kiss ended, Tate was breathless as she said, “Yeah. Be my Prince Charming, Ash.”
Untangling himself from his little Cinderella, Ash, also breathing fast, said, “What do you want on your pizza?”
Tate went around him and sat on the couch. “Sausage, please.”
Asher wasn’t sure, but he thought she’d been looking at the lump his penis made in the towel when she’d mentioned sausage. But as he stared at her, she gave off the sweet innocent vibe that drew him to her so powerfully. It must have been a coincidence.
After Asher placed the order, Tate said, “Can I take a bath over here? I’d like to wash off the chlorine, too.”
He showed the girl the bathtub, found another towel, and started running the water for her. “If you want to run the shower, that knob in the middle will turn it on.”
When he left Tate to her bath, Asher headed into his bedroom, where he slid on a pair of boxers before tossing the towel on top of the growing pile of dirty laundry. After that, he cued up episode three of Stranger Things and waited for the pizza delivery guy.
Continued in Part 6
Copyright 2020 – Caliboy1991
All rights reserved