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18
I remember so well. We were just 18, so young, but not so innocent, not in our minds anyway. You were so cute, and such a bitch too. You singled me out, for your, my, first relationship. You came round to my house, opened the refrigerator and popped a soda, so nonchalant, so at ease, on the outside. You were instant friends with our housekeeper, you with your long blond hair and acne cream. I saw right through you, but that meant nothing, my cock was the pulsating beat of the universe. You challenged me with your intellect and your mocking wit. You found my weaknesses, oh too easily. You…