The idea of him sexually was not an option. When I was seven and scott was f******n I was madly in love. I had a diary of love poems and a laundry list of sex fantasies about him. It didn’t help that he was not a gawky teen. Even my mom joked that scott popped out of the womb a gorgeous baby. They even plotted to get him into modeling as a c***d. He had thick blonde hair, big blue eyes, dimples to die for and a deviant smirk. By the time he was f******n he was nearly six foot tall and built like a man. I could understand why girls never stopped calling him. Me and Jason contemplated his sex life. Jason tried to get details. I just fantasized about his exploits. In his late teen years I got to see the girls that called him. They were gorgeous. We joked he fucked the whole damn cheerleading squad. He didn’t play sports even though he was built to play football. Music was his thing. When he was eighteen and I was nine I could watch him play the guitar for hours. One. ...another text. It was just a face shot of her with a grin like she had just won the lottery. BING! Another text....”Do you want to face time?” she asked. I responded with asking her where she was now......”I'm still in the dressing room and had an idea.” She told me that she wanted me to give her a few minutes and then she was going to face time me. I said sure. 10 minutes went by.....BING! A request came through on my phone for face time. I accepted. When the picture came on I fully expected that she would be in the store somewhere to show me something else she wanted to buy. No... she was still in the dressing room...fully clothed. I asked her what was going on. She told me to take my pants off and get ready to blow a load. I figured she was going to give me a strip tease and maybe even let me watch her masturbate. I started getting hard thinking about it. What seemed weird was that as she was squeezed into one corner of the little room when she started to take off her blouse..
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