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We kept dancing. As we moved, Bobbie whispered, “Rick, I have to tell you something. Please don’t hate me for it.”I whispered back, “I’d never hate you, no matter what.”“I’m not so sure,” she whispered. “Rick, I’m a guy.”“WHAT?” I tried to pull away.“Wait,” whispered Bobbie, her arms still wrapped around me. “Just finish the dance. Please.”The song was almost over. I felt my erection shrinking. Bobbie relaxed her grip on me a bit but continued to dance. “Rick,” she said, “finish the dance. Then you can go. Or we can talk. Whatever you like. Please.”When the song ended, I dropped my arms. Bobbie didn’t. She said, “Rick, please. Look at the front of my skirt before you move away.” I looked down between us. She, or rather he, had an erection. It was pushing out the front of her, or his, skirt.I felt myself starting to get hard again. “How could that be happening,” I wondered. “I’m not gay, am I?”The band started a new song; another slow one. Bobbie began to sway to the music, the bulge. Her ass and thighs seemed to be almost perfect for those boobs."Did you get lunch?" I asked to get Eddie's eyes off the top of her sweat shirt. they had obviously allowed her to change before they brought her to us."I wasn't hungry too excited I guess," she replied."Did you use the bathroom? We won't be stopping for a while," I explained."I'm fine. I just want to get on the road home," she said.I turned my attention to the guard. "Has she been through a metal detector?" I asked."No, but I can run a wand over her, if you want?" he suggested."We do want," Simpson said. We had to wait about five minutes while they found, then ran a metal detector wand over Gypsy. She was clean, but if she managed to kill me, I wanted it to be for my fuck up, not some Florida jailer's mistake.In the parking lot I cuffed her hands in front of her, but also around her seat belt. She could get the seat belt open but it would only allow her a limited amount of movement. I was trying to be as careful and yet.
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Murdock, though it’s still early,” he replied as he turned the hot dogs.”No need to be formal, call me Cody.””Okay, Cody.”One more flip of the dogs and burgers, and they would be ready. Frank went over to the table to get the platters and as he did, he and I both looked over at the girls, who in turn, smiled as they waved. When Frank returned to the grill, they were giggling.Kate, who is slightly taller than my wife’s five-feet-two inches, has shoulder length red hair. She is a freshman at the university, on a full ride academic scholarship.The girls seemed to be having a good time, giggling and laughing as they talked. As we loaded up the platters, I told the girls it was time to eat. Kate sat across from me, while Frank sat across from Joni. The conversation was anything but small talk, and it was refreshing to talk about a wide range of topics. It was evident that Joni was playing footsie under the table by the way Frank was fidgeting in his chair. I wasn’t surprised at all, as.

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