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At seven o’ clock, he walked through the doors and saw her just walking onstage then. She had dressed for him, he could tell—her low shirt, a blac... lace bra peeking from the corner, a tight pencil skirt, and high heels. She carried her guitar, smiled shyly, and introduced herself. He listened as her voice carried across the shop, watching, enthralled, as her breasts moved with each strum of the guitar. Her adept fingers caressed the strings, her lips forming the words of a familiar song. She. I, not knowing any better, just let them do their thing. It wasn't until much later, that I learned that it was wrong to let them touch my dick.I learned when I tuned 11. I had been at school, when a girl in my class asked me to help her tie her shoe. I happily did so. While I was kneeling, her skirt was raised up. I put my hand on her leg, thinking she wanted me to rub her pussy like my sisters and mother did.She yelled at me, calling me a pervert. She told the nun that I touched her. More

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