The following story is fiction. All characters and events therein are entirely a product of the writer's own imagination. It is a story of high school friendships and of a romance between two teenage boys. It will eventually contain scenes of boy-boy sex, so if that offends you or if it is not legal to read about it at your age or where you live, consider yourself duly warned. The copyright for this story belongs solely to the author.
I wish to express my heartfelt thanks to Sara for giving me the inspiration to write this story in the first place, and for encouraging me to post it here. Thanks, Sara, for your editing help also, and for being such a good friend.
Comments on the story are invited and welcome, even criticism, provided it is constructive!
Allan sanansaattaja2003@yahoo.com
Sam, chapter 1
Sam and I were all but inseparable. In fact, we'd been best friends ever since third grade when Sam's family moved to our town and bought the house next door to ours. We were sophomores in high school when this story took place, and by that time we knew each other about as well as we knew ourselves. It can be a bit scary sometimes to feel so exposed to someone like that. Sam seemed to know exactly what I was thinking before I even opened my mouth and it would've been pointless to try to prevaricate. I could never have fooled her.
Yeah, that's right. Her. Sam was a girl, in spite of her name. Well, actually Sam wasn't her real name. Her parents weren't that hard up for a boy! They already had four boys by the time she came along, and they were thrilled to finally get a girl. They named her Sally Ann. Sally Ann McMillan. And they used to dress her up when she was little in flower-print dresses with frilly lace and ribbons and lots of pink. And they bought her dolls and dollhouses and little toy tea sets--all of that girl stuff. But she became a tomboy for all of that! She much preferred playing in the sandbox with her brothers. Her mother finally gave up on the cute little dresses when Sam came home one day with the skirt half ripped off and dragging in the dirt behind her. She'd been climbing in a tree and caught her shoe in the lace on the hem! She was a feisty youngster and wouldn't back down for anyone, often squabbling and fighting with her brothers. Even though she was the youngest, she could hold her own with the best of them and more than once ended up with a black eye or a tooth knocked loose. Once she even gave her brother a black eye! She had a fist that her brothers learned to beware of, but when backed into a corner she wasn't beyond resorting to the girl trick of scratching with her nails either.
It was one of her brothers that first started calling her Sam when she was still a preschooler, and the name had stuck. Her parents had resigned themselves by then to the fact that she probably never would be a proper Sally Ann, so Sam she became, and Sam she remained from then on. My Sam. My bosom buddy.
Oh yeah, pardon me for not introducing myself. I'm Lee. As a kid, I was tall for my age, and gangly, and I was always a bit clumsy. I was never real good at sports, even though I could enjoy playing a game of softball or basketball or volleyball, and I put my whole heart into it when doing so. I just wasn't good at it, and no one ever pressured me into trying out for the teams in school either. That was all right. I knew I wouldn't have been much of an asset to the team, and besides, I would just have embarrassed myself. I was pretty smart, I guess. I got straight A's without having to work at it very hard. And I was quite easy-going. Apart from academically, I didn't stick out very much in school. I was rather average looking, with pale blue eyes and dishwater blonde hair, a biggish nose and a slight acne problem. I don't think anyone disliked me and no one taunted me, or anything, but I didn't have any really close friends apart from Sam.
I still remember the hot summer day when the McMillans moved in next door and I first laid eyes on that tall, willowy, jeans-and-tee-shirt-clad, freckle-faced, brown-haired and hazel-eyed girl. It was shortly before the start of school and between then and the day two weeks later when we first walked into Mrs. Abbott's third grade classroom hand-in-hand, we had already become inseparable. It was not a boy-girl thing. Not at all. But we were fast becoming soul mates, all the same. Somehow, we just fit together. Everything clicked between us. The fact that she was a girl and I was a boy was totally immaterial. That was neither here nor there. We never gave it a thought back then in the beginning of our friendship. And we seldom gave it a thought thereafter either.
Almost eight years had passed since then and puberty had come and gone. Sam was no longer the same tomboy she had once been. She was rapidly blossoming into an attractive woman. She was still willowy, slim and nearly flat-breasted, and yes, freckle-faced, but she had grown much more feminine than she used to be in her looks and manner, and even in her dress. And she could be dangerously charming too! Whenever she made full use of that slightly lop-sided, toothy smile of hers, I swear she could melt the hardest of hearts. But, for all practical purposes, I was immune to her feminine charms. True, she'd always been like the sister I never had, and you don't get a hard-on for your sister, do you? But then I didn't get a hard-on for any girl. Sam knew I was gay. In fact, she knew it before I did! But wisely, she didn't say anything about it to me for some time. I suppose I was in about the eighth grade before it first started to dawn on me and I sure didn't breathe a word about it to anyone, not even Sam, as close as we were. But like I've already said, Sam and I could almost read each other's minds, and eventually I understood that she knew even if she hadn't said anything. And about as soon as she realised that I knew she knew, she brought it up to me. Not accusingly, not judgmentally. Nothing like that. She just let me know that she knew and that it was fine with her. It was just another part of who and what I was and I was still the same best friend she had always loved and always would. You can't imagine what a comfort it was at that time to have a friend like her, who knew and understood me one hundred percent and who accepted me totally and without reservation, and was absolutely loyal.
Just because we were so close didn't mean we excluded others. We were both fairly out-going and well liked. Sam had her girl friends and I had my "more or less" buddies too, whom I hung out with at times, but Sam and I were never very far from one another and I think everyone in school just assumed that we were a couple in the typical boy-girl sense. We went to the dances and ball games and other school functions together as a couple, and we went to the movies together and hung out at the coffee shop afterwards like any normal couple on a date, so none of the other boys would ever have thought to ask her out. And no one suspected my true sexual orientation either.
I asked Sam one time if that wasn't a problem for her. How would she ever find a proper boyfriend when all the boys considered her and me an "item" and assumed she was already taken? She assured me that she wasn't even looking for a boyfriend yet and I was the only boy she cared to be with. That made me feel good, of course, but I did still wonder sometimes if it was fair to her to be tied to me, as it were.
She was quite a boy-watcher--that I knew for sure. We both were, you see, and we compared notes all the time! It was one of our favourite pastimes when we were together and out of ear-shot of others. And we had almost identical tastes too, when it came to boys. There was a teacher in our school who was really hot and we both had a major crush on him. He was our geometry teacher. Now geometry was our least favorite subject, but ironically it became one of our favorite classes because it was always such fun to sit and look at Mr. Andersen. He must surely have been just about every girl's heart-throb and every gay boy's wet dream. That was only his second or third year of teaching, so he was very young, and he was gorgeous. His hair was so blonde it was almost white and his eyes were a startling turquoise color. It was a challenge to keep my mind half-way focused on his lectures when he stood facing us at the front of the class with his biceps and pectoral mounds bulging beneath the thin cotton of his shirt, and his succulent nipples visible, and with that mouth-watering mound in his crotch. But the view from behind was equally as tantalizing. His back tapered from broad shoulders down to a narrow waist and slim hips, and his butt literally took my breath away. It was tight and shapely, nicely filling out the seat of his slacks and flexing seductively whenever he shifted his weight from one foot to the other the way he had a habit of doing while writing on the blackboard. His forearms were covered with thick, curly, silky-soft looking hair which was as pale as that unruly mop on his head, in striking contrast to his darkly tanned skin. I itched to run my fingers through it, and I fantasized about how much of the rest of his body might be covered in the same way. I also speculated about how much of his body was tanned like his arms and face. Usually I pictured him with an all-over tan, and I jacked off countless times to the hot mental image of him sunbathing in the nude, stretched out full-length on a big beach towel. Sometimes I saw him in my mind's eye lying on his back with his big, cum-filled balls hanging down low between his hunky, hairy, wide-spread thighs and his magnificent cock lying thick and throbbing across his groin. Other times I imagined him lying on his stomach, exposing those beautiful, firm, presumably down-covered, globes of ass flesh to the hot sun and to my feverish gaze, and I pictured his huge, erect cock protruding down between his legs, drooling precum onto the towel beneath him.
The closest Sam and I came to doing anything sexual together was sharing our fantasies with each other. It was no end of fun because we had such similar tastes in guys and we were totally uninhibited about describing them to each other, leaving nothing to the imagination. Mr. Andersen was often the unwitting victim of our lecherous fantasy-sharing sessions, but occasionally we chose one or two of the other teachers as well. Like the boys' gym teacher and track coach, Mr. Jenkins, for example. I'd had the good fortune of being in his gym class and had seen him nude in the showers more than once, so I could paint a true-to-life word picture for Sam, much to her enjoyment. Mr. Jenkins was quite different from Mr. Andersen, though. He was much more slender and streamlined and was dark-haired and smooth skinned. He wasn't as gorgeous as Mr. Andersen and we both wished many times that it was Mr. Andersen who was my gym teacher. Sam got me to describe quite a number of the other boys in school also, as I saw them nude in the gym showers and changing room.
Like I already mentioned to you, we were sophomores when the events I want to tell you about took place. We were only about a month into the school year and Sam and I were sitting across from each other in the lunchroom eating. No one else was sitting real close to us, to overhear, but Sam leaned closer anyway and nearly whispered to me, "Lee, you know that new kid, what's his name? The one who moved here from out of state who's in our history class..?"
"Yeah. Jay."
"Well he keeps looking at you."
"At me?"
"Yeah."
Of course, instinctively I turned around to see, and sure enough, there he was about two tables away from us, gazing in our direction. The minute he saw me look at him he ducked his head and blushed and got busy eating.
"What makes you think he's been lookin' at me? It's probably you he's eyein'."
"No, it's you. Definitely. In fact, I've seen him watching you other times too. I think he's hot for ya, Lee!"
"What?!" I blurted out, too loudly. Several kids turned to look at us. But when I didn't say any more for a minute they quickly lost interest again.
"I do, Lee. I'd bet ya' anything he's gay and he's got it bad for ya."
I didn't know what to say. The idea of anyone being hot for me had never occurred to me, ever. Honest. And now, suddenly, I felt oddly flattered by Sam's words. Unbelieving, mostly, but somehow intrigued with the thought that another boy might be interested in me. It would take a bit of time to process that new idea. I had drooled over a number of other boys myself, privately and together with Sam, but had never gone so far as to even imagine acting on my sexual thoughts or desires and of approaching anyone. And it had never occurred to me that anyone would reciprocate, either, that anyone might feel the same way toward me. Granted, I always just assumed that the other boys in school were straight. No doubt most of the guys who appealed to me were straight, but then none of them thought I was gay either! At least not that I was aware of.
"It's true, Lee," Sam continued. "I've noticed how he looks at you in history class, with those love-sick, puppy-dog eyes. All the time."
I just stared at her, not saying anything.
"He's sorta cute too, don't you think, Lee?"
"Cute? Hmmmm. Well, maybe, now that I think about it," I thought to myself. But I didn't say anything.
"Don't you think so, Lee?" Sam persisted.
"Mmmm hmmm," I mumbled. Darn! I'd never really given Jay a second glance. He wasn't handsome, by any means, just more or less nondescript in looks, and small in body. He was head and shoulders shorter than me and very slender. He had rather thin, straight, mousy colored hair, grayish eyes, wire-rimmed glasses and a thin face with a bit of a pug nose and slightly protruding ears. But, yeah, there was something kind of cute about him, you might say. He just wasn't anything like the kind of guys I fantasized about, that's all! My ultimate fantasy man was Mr. Andersen, of course, but any other guys I'd ever gotten a hard-on over were a far cry from Jay--athletic, macho, muscular, good-looking, flesh and blood gods--definitely nothing like quiet, mousy little Jay Evans. Still the thought of Jay making eyes at me, wanting me, dreaming about me, was strangely exciting, and I felt my pulse speed up a bit.
Sam sat across from me, looking at me as I digested this, a little smile on her face. I'm positive she knew exactly what I was thinking, how I was feeling. "You should try to get to know him a bit, Lee," she said. "I know he would like that. He wants you. Hell, he needs you!"
Nothing more was said then, as lunch hour was ending and it was time to start moving toward our next class. But my mind was churning, for sure, and I was feeling rather weird for some reason. This would take some getting used to.
In spite of Sam's urging, I didn't make any move to connect with Jay. But I did notice, since it had been brought to my attention, that he really did watch me a lot. I often found him looking at me, but always when I caught his eye he would quickly look away and blush. Things might have continued indefinitely like that, had not fate intervened to bring us together. One day Mrs. French, our history teacher, assigned us an extra research project and paired us up two and two to work on it together. We were to do all our research on our own time, in the library and on the internet and wherever else we wanted, and then beginning three weeks later, each pair by turns would present their finished report to the class. I couldn't believe it when she called out mine and Jay's names together, and I actually gasped out loud. I don't think anyone noticed, except Sam, of course, and she pounced on me immediately after class, expressing her delight at this fortunate cast of fate, as she called it.
"You were meant to get together, Lee! I just know it."
Poor little Jay seemed extremely embarrassed when I finally managed to corner him later to make plans for our first research session. He was nervous and stuttered and stammered and blushed and looked like he wanted to duck away and hide. And the more nervous he got the more I wanted to just reach out and hold him and pat him and soothe him. Jeez! I hoped he would soon get a hold of himself and relax so we could actually work together.
I needn't have worried, really. He wasn't scared of me. He was just a bit overwhelmed initially at being practically thrust like that `into the lap' of the very one he had been mooning over for several weeks. Soon enough I was the one who was feeling embarrassed, being the object of his worship. It was terribly flattering to someone like me who others had never really paid much attention to before, but at the same time it was more than a little scary. I wanted Jay to like me, certainly, but not excessively so. After all, I was just an ordinary guy with feet of clay, and certainly not a god!
Little by little, we both got our balance and were able to relax and enjoy spending time together, and our research project went amazingly well. I discovered that Jay had a very lively wit and a rather self-deprecating sense of humor. He was also extremely intelligent. And he was infatuated with me. That was made obvious in so many ways--in the way he looked at me, the way he hung onto my every word, the way he was forever touching me when we worked together. They were just fleeting touches, and almost hesitant at times. There was nothing sexual in it, really--just an occasional touch on my sleeve, or a hand on my shoulder, or brushing against me from behind while I sat at the table and he looked over my shoulder, or else from the side while we sat together poring over some tome or writing our notes. But I knew he yearned for more. And I was getting kind of nervous about it. I was quite sure he didn't suspect that I was gay and that there could ever be any reciprocation from my side. The more we got to know each other, the guiltier I felt about keeping him in the dark regarding my sexuality. But then he had never said he is gay either. And I thought maybe he didn't know that I knew. Hell, maybe he hadn't even analyzed that fact himself, how should I know? But it was obvious to me, and to Sam. And it should have been obvious to anyone else at school that was observant enough to notice the worshipful way he was always looking at me. Thank goodness, everyone at least seemed to be oblivious! I was not out and had no desire to be out. Only Sam knew my deepest secret and that's the way I wanted it to remain.
Jay, however, dear sweet innocent little Jay, was complicating things for me! I marvelled that someone so smart could also be so naïve, so utterly lacking in subtlety. Why couldn't he at least make an effort to hide his infatuation?
Sam remarked to me one lunch hour about a week and a half into our project, "You're gonna have to level with him, you know, Lee."
"What do ya mean?" I muttered, startled. Even though I knew perfectly well what she meant.
"You know," she said, and that was all.
But that was enough to through me into turmoil for the rest of the day. I got through my afternoon classes somehow, but mentally I was more absent than otherwise, thinking about what Sam had said and about how I might broach the subject with Jay and about what direction things might take.
It all happened quite naturally in the end, though. I'm amazed when I look back on it, how the rest of that day went. Jay and I had been in the habit of spending an hour or so in the city library after school, either reading reference books or searching for information on the internet. Neither of us had computers at home, so the library was the logical place. But we had already agreed to come to my place that day, rather than go to the library. We wanted to work on organizing all the data we had already collected and to start planning how to present it in our report. So we walked together to my home, roughly a half mile from the school. Jay had never seen where I lived. His home was about an equal distance from the school in the opposite direction, and he was new to the town besides. It felt very comfortable walking with him, our arms full of books, chatting and joking. Jay's humor made him a constant delight to be with and I wondered then that no one in the school had made any real effort to befriend him yet. They didn't know what they were missing.
We got to my house and I threw open the front door, calling out to my mom like I always did when I came home, but today there was no answering greeting. I led Jay through the dining room where we threw our books and papers down on the table and then on into the kitchen, wondering where Mom was. There I found a note on the counter informing me that she was gone with some friends of hers to some exhibition or other in the neighboring city and that she wouldn't be home until late. She said I could either heat up some leftovers in the microwave for supper, or else order pizza or something, but I was on my own until bedtime. Perhaps I should explain that I have no brothers or sisters and my parents are divorced, so when Mom was away I really was on my own. There would be no one to disturb us.
I asked Jay if he was in a hurry or if we could just hang out for awhile before starting on our notes and he thought hanging out would be cool, so that's what we did. I got us each a coke from the fridge and put a CD in the player in the family room and we flopped down, one on each end of the couch, facing each another. Jay was so adorable, sitting there sipping on his coke and gazing at me like he was always doing. He looked rather like a puppy, I thought, looking up at its master, trusting, adoring, longing, and just waiting to have its ears scratched and to be petted and fussed over. Suddenly, on an impulse I put my coke down on the end table and scooted over next to him, scooped him up into my arms and burrowed my nose in his soft, mousy hair.
I startled him so that he nearly choked on his mouthful of coke, which sprayed out of his nose and mouth all over my shirt. But I didn't care. I was like on autopilot now. I had never up till then even imagined doing what I did, what I was doing, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world at that moment. I took his coke can from his hand and set it on the coffee table then tenderly took his cute pixie face into my hands and gazed intently into those puppy-dog eyes of his while slowly, slowly lowering my lips to his. His eyes had grown huge, like saucers, and a little gasp escaped from his mouth just as our lips touched. He whimpered once, then, and threw his arms around me, hugging me tight and kissing back with a passion.
Eventually we both felt the need to come up for air. I'm not sure I had even thought to breathe; I was so caught up in the excitement of the kiss. We drew back from each other a few inches and gazed wonderingly, searchingly, into one another's eyes, big question marks almost visible there. Jay's face was flushed and his gray eyes had grown huge again, his hair was mussed and his glasses were smeared from rubbing against my face. In spite of his dishevelment, he had never looked more adorable to me, and I gave him a quick squeeze since my arms were still around him. A shudder passed through his slight frame as he sobbed once, and a lone tear trickled out of the corner of his eye and began to roll down his upturned cheek. This alarmed me until I noticed the beautiful smile on his cherubic lips and realized it was a tear of happiness. I kissed his cheek then, right on top of the teardrop, arresting its flow and sucking it into my mouth. Then I drew the tip of my tongue gently up his cheek, following the wet, salty trail of the tear back to its source in the corner of his eye. I removed his glasses and placed them on the end table behind us, and after planting a feather-light kiss on each of his eyelids, I gently pressed his face against my chest and nuzzled with my own in his sweet-smelling hair, planting little kisses here and there on the top of his head.
After awhile he pulled away and looked up at me. "Gosh, Lee, I n-n-n-never..." he stammered.
"Surprised you, huh?" I interjected, and he nodded his head in agreement.
"Surprised myself too, believe me. I don't know what came over me, Jay. I just..."
"You're not sorry, are you?" Jay blurted out, looking alarmed.
"Of course not, silly!" I quickly assured him. Then to emphasize this, I reached out and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him lightly again, on the lips.
"Jay," I began, "I've been thinking for some time that I must let you know I'm gay too."
"Too...?" he started to say. "I'm not... I mean..."
"You are gay, aren't you, Jay?"
"No... Well, I don't... I never..."
"I've seen how you've been looking at me for weeks now, Jay. I just assumed you are also gay and that you had fallen for me. I haven't read you wrong, have I?"
"Oh, Lee! I love you! I've loved you since I first saw you the day I started school here, but..."
"Dear sweet Jay, I think I love you too..."
"I just knew you'd never want me, Lee. You've got Sam! You do love Sam, don't you? You're always together. I mean always! I didn't want to come between you, Lee..." And then he gasped suddenly and continued, "Oh, God! What will she think now? What will you tell...? You're not gonna tell her, are you, Lee?" All of that came tumbling out of him in a breathless rush.
"Don't be silly, you goose!" I chuckled. "Of course I'm gonna tell Sam..."
"WHAT?" He cried. "You can't! You mustn't! She'll hate me..." He was on the verge of real tears by then.
I pulled him against me again and patted his back and said, "Jay! Calm down, man. I've got a lot of explaining to do. You don't understand. It's not like you think."
He did calm down a bit then and looked up at me questioningly as I continued to hold him, rubbing the open palm of one hand in big slow circles on his back.
"Jay, Sam is not my girlfriend. She's my best friend in the whole world, but not my girlfriend. We've been best friends forever, and she's known that I'm gay since we were in eighth grade, I think. What would you think if I told you that she's the one who first realized you have a crush on me and encouraged me to make a move on you?"
Jay's eyes opened wide and he stared at me, as if he didn't believe what I'd said.
"That's right, Jay. I'm not lyin' to ya. She's totally cool with this, believe me! She'll be delighted when she finds out what's happened!"
Jay seemed agitated again at the thought of Sam knowing about what we had done, and I quickly continued, "There's not a hope in the world of me hiding it from her, Jay. Trust me. I have no secrets from Sam. I couldn't have. She can read me like a book and she'll know in a split second that something's happened as soon as she sees me tomorrow! Hell, I can bet you a hundred bucks that she'll call me this evening and she'll know even without seeing me and without me saying anything. That's how close we are. But Jay, please believe me. You have nothing to fear from Sam. She'll be thrilled for us, I know it. She's the greatest. There's no one like her in the world!"
Jay did relax after that last speech, and just leaned against me in my embrace, looking up at me with those big eyes of his--those adorable and adoring puppy-dog eyes that I had come to love so much.
"Gosh, Lee," he murmured, "I never dreamed I'd be able to have you..." And he started to cry again, soundlessly. The tears came fast this time, coursing down his cheeks, but all the while he was smiling happily. I just pulled him tighter to me and began to cry myself. I thought my heart would burst.
We never did get any work done with our notes that afternoon. Jay startled me when he sat up suddenly and looked at his watch and then jumped to his feet. "Oh my God, Lee! I gotta run. My dad'll kill me if I'm not home in time for supper. We always eat at six, as soon as Dad gets home from work."
We had lain back on the sofa with Jay lying on top of me, enclosed in my arms. Our tears had soon dried up and we had just cuddled together, kissing now and then, not saying anything, but revelling in our feelings of contentment and of love for one another, enjoying this new-found closeness and the unfamiliar but oh so delicious feeling of body against body and of soul joining to soul. It felt so right. Perfect, in fact. And we wanted it never to end.
I looked at my watch then too, and was shocked to see that it was already five thirty. He would have to run, and even at that he'd barely make it home in time. After all, it was a mile away. He pulled himself together and tucked in his shirt while I cleaned his glasses for him and then ran my comb through his hair and kissed him again quickly on those sweet lips of his.
"You better call your mom, Jay, and tell her you're on your way so she won't be worried if you're a bit late. Look, I'll walk you home and then I'll stop at Pizza Hut or Burger King or something and have my supper since my mom isn't gonna be home. No! Ask your mom if you can eat supper with me at Pizza Hut! I'll treat you. OK?"
Jay looked quite doubtful, but he did call and he did get permission to eat with me, but with strict instructions to come straight home afterwards. We high-fived then and threw ourselves into each other's arms for another final big hug before gathering up his books from the table and setting out for Pizza Hut. Our first date! Yippee!
We had a lot to talk about as we walked and while we ate our supper. We both just understood and accepted, without spelling it out in words, that we were a couple now. No question about that! And it felt darned good, believe me. We were like on a high with the very thought of it--one minute giddy and giggly, and then the next minute serious again. Neither of us was out to anyone (except for me being out to Sam, of course), and we weren't anywhere near ready to change that yet. So we knew we would have to be careful not to give it away, especially at school. We wanted to touch each other continually, but that would have to be kept for private, as difficult as it would surely be to refrain. But maybe the most difficult of all would be to not give it away with our eyes, with the way we looked at each other. People would surely pick up on that unless we were very careful and guarded.
All too soon we had finished our pizzas and cokes and Jay had to get on home. I walked him to his gate where I gave him a gentle slug on the shoulder before turning to go and he walked up the walk to his front door. I couldn't resist, of course, turning to look back once, and he was standing on the step watching me walk away. His face lit up like the sun when he saw me look and he waved happily and then disappeared into the house.
I couldn't wait for Sam to call me so I called her instead, as soon as I got home again, and she picked up on my excitement almost before I said hello, so of course she guessed everything. Well, almost everything. She demanded to hear all the details and like I had tried to assure Jay, she was totally thrilled for both of us. There didn't seem to be a jealous cell in her body and her big, warm heart was elastic enough to stretch and take in Jay right along with me without it being crowded in there at all. I loved her more than ever because of it and I just knew that in no time Jay would come to love her just like I did. What a unique triangle we would make!
Please stay tuned for more!
Allan sanansaattaja2003@yahoo.com