It isn’t, but people would think it is. The colors tell me what they’re feeling, which tells me what they’re thinking, sometimes. Tiffany called...it “reading”, by the time they caught us.Tiffany bore the brunt of most of our research. She learned how to sit there, with her eyes closed, and just say what she was feeling. Initially it was confusing, because she couldn’t tell whether I was making her feel something, or she was just feeling it on her own. Eventually, though, she got really good at. “Do you know where Bryan is? He isn’t in his room!” Bryan whispered “Why the fuck does he look in my room?” Immediately, Jason said loudly and angrily “Who is in there? Is someone with you?” I was afraid. “No, I’m alone!!” Jason didn’t seem to trust me. “And where is Bryan?” he asked. I thought for a moment, and then I replied “I think he went to a night disco with his friends. It was too boring for him here.” Jason hesitated. Then he said “Hmm ok. Sleep soon.” And went back to his room again.. Having folded her trousers, she looked back across at me. I had just undone my trousers but had paused before pulling them down over my bulging briefs. She smiled at my hesitancy "Come on Tim, get them down then!" she laughed, "I've seen plenty of guys in underpants before you know. And out of them too for that matter!"That wasn't quite the point, I thought, but still, maybe she'd be impressed; I might as well get it over with so 'here goes!' and I carefully guided them down over my straining. Once she touched the light, he removed his leggings and fronts-piece and kneeled between her legs. Leaning onto her, he entered her, slowly and gently, pushing himself deep inside her. Slowly withdrawing he once again listened for the rhythm of the dance and then thrust into her, withdrawing and then thrusting again, matching the dance outside. Together they prayed in their union, sharing the wet warmth and the strong length that moved together so beautifully. Arching his back with each thrust.
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