cheese grater raccoon

“Let me give you a ride, Jim. You don’t even need to change.” I said thanks and grabbed my stuff. I climbed into the passenger side. Mrs. B. was driving one of the massive cars of the day, a Delta 88 or something. She turned out of the school parking lot, turning away from the the way to my house. “I want to pick up something at my house first. Give you a chance to see where I live.”

At this point it was obviously becoming a bad habit, but Sarah had been following her urges this whole time and she wasn’t about to stop. Finally stretching to its limit, her father’s penis bumped up against her lips and nose.And she smelled it.And it was like nothing she had smelled before.Indescribable.

Towards the middle of the semester, Mrs. B. devised an assignment where we had to act out a soliloquy from any Shakespeare play. I chose Marc Antony’s “Friends, Romans, Countrymen” speech from Julius Caesar. As we had to be in costume for extra credit, I brought a flat sheet to school to fashion into a toga of sorts. There was a supply closet in the front of the room where people could change. Boys would pretend to peek in the closet when girls were changing. There wasn’t much to see for the most part, as girls might throw a long night gown over their clothes to play Juliet. The door locked on the outside when closed completely, so the few kids with major changes could do so with some privacy.