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Boy Turned Into Girl By Sister
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Information

  • What is my age:
  • I am 32
  • Where am I from:
  • I'm nicaraguan
  • Orientation:
  • I prefer gentleman
  • Iris color:
  • I’ve got bright hazel green eyes but I use colored contact lenses
  • My Zodiac sign:
  • My Sign of the zodiac Aquarius
  • What I like to drink:
  • My favourite drink mulled wine

About

YML Porn. Show All.

Description

Across, Exhibit G, Exhibit Z. Captioning Emily. Tell Yourself. A Hypothesis. A Boy And His Sister.

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Anchor Point. Erotic Dialogues. Say a boy is born in a village in Vietnam.

But he is a Chinese boy, so already his family is different. And on the day this boy is born, his sister falls into the village well and is never seen again. So this sister, she dies in the well. Or say she is seen again, but when they pull her out of the water she is heavy and bloated and purple so it is better to say she is never seen again.

And this boy, because he is Chinese, because his sister falls into the well and dies in the well, because all this happens on the day of his birth, this boy is different. Or say a boy is not born in a village. He is not born in Vietnam.

Boy transformed in girl by his mother and sister hot films

This boy is born in Connecticut. And he is a Chinese boy, so already his family is different. On the day this boy is born, his sister falls into the deep end of the pool and is never seen again. So this sister, she drowns in the pool.

Or say she falls into the shallow end and hits her head. Either way, she dies. So it is better to say that she is never seen again. And this boy, because he is Chinese, because his sister falls into the public pool and her blood turns the water pink, because all this happens on the day of his birth, this boy, he is different.

The one who drowned herself in the public pool on the day her brother is born. When they pull her out of the water, she is heavy and bloated and purple. The water is pink where she fell.

Say a boy is born in Connecticut. His mother and father are Chinese from Vietnam. They live in a one bedroom apartment beside a factory. Say the factory makes paper clips. Or wrist watches. Or eyedroppers.

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One day, when the boy is too young to remember, his mother slaps his father on the face and his father punches her in the mouth. His father cuts his hand open and his mother starts to cry. But the boy is too young to remember. Then one day, when the boy is old enough to remember, his mother throws the telephone at his father and his father beats her with the plastic folding chair. The chair that is kept folded against the wall and put aside for guests.

It is bright red and has creaky hinges. The boy remembers. The boy does not see him again. But say the boy does see his father again. Say the boy is twelve years old and he is smoking his first cigarette, leaning against the metal fence of the school yard. The boy is small for his age and has chubby cheeks. He is smoking with a group of other boys, all in the seventh grade with their baseball caps and oversized jeans.

They call him Baby Chino and rub his hair. They take care of him because he is small for his age.

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These other boys, they are his brothers. So when they see his father stumbling down the other side of the street, these boys do not know him as father. Father who broke the red plastic chair. These other boys, they only see a drunken homeless man. They throw their rocks, they have their fun. So it is better to say the boy does not see his father again.

She tried to tell me once, one night, when I was walking her home. I listened to her footsteps going up the stairs to the apartment. Then I crossed the empty street and looked up at her window.

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The light was off but her face was pressed against the glass. She looked so young. She saw me looking at her looking at me and quickly hid herself. I did not know how to feel.

That night when I am asleep, she climbs into bed with me and crawls under the covers. Her feet are cold. Listen, she says, I have a story to tell you. Say a girl is born in a village. Her mother and father are Chinese in Vietnam.

They live in a three story house besides the factory the family owns. Say the factory makes lunch boxes. Or handkerchiefs. Or packets of sunflower seeds. The girl is well-educated.

She speaks four languages and studies geography, calligraphy and the two-stringed violin. Her mother does not work. Her father manages the sunflower seed factory.

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But the girl is too young to remember. Then one day, when the girl is old enough to remember, there is a street riot and someone sets fire to the sunflower seed factory her family owns. The servants run away and the girl is alone with her mother and father. Her mother and father run through the house unlocking all the doors and windows.

They pull out trunks and trunks of valuables from under the beds, under the floorboards, under white linen sheets. They open the trunks, leave them open in the doorways. The last trunk is filled with red embroidered silk. The only door they lock is the door to the attic.

Say a boy is born in a city. And on the day this boy is born, his sister falls into the shallow end of the public pool and hits her head. So this sister, she dies. The boy does not know he has a sister until he is twelve years old. He is smoking his first cigarette, leaning against the metal fence of the school yard. He is alone. On the other side of the street, he sees his father stumbling down, a drunken homeless man. The boy knows him as father.

Father, who broke the folding chair put aside for guests. He speaks to the boy in Cantonese. You look just like your sister, he says.

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