I got a new stopwatch and clipboard meant for recording times just like for track teams.At home Veronica let me watch her model the new ‘uniforms’...and take pictures of her in and out of them. We made love and I thanked her for everything. She played ignorant and teased me into saying exactly what I meant. So I told her that I had enjoyed seeing the five girls model her track suites and show me their camel toe pussies and that I loved the twenty-two new additions to my pussy hair collection. We. I couldn't be sure. "What a load of crap," I declared surveying my room, feeling a little light headed. My shoulders were aching, then my neck, the liquid I drunk surely doing this to me. "Ugh I feel sick," I moaned again out load. But it wasn't sickness in my stomach, but in my gut like when you realise you have just done something horribly wrong. I began to feel angry, a rage in fact. Angry with myself but also with the beauty I could see through the window. I was losing control. But I was. More

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