I have met some gay men who had the same make psychological up, and I haven't liked them. Some lesbians I get on with, like a brother. There are a lot...of both types, amongst the University crowd.The married women in the company at North Wyong use to fuck me until their legs gave out. Then they went home to safe old hubby, cooked his tea, and claimed to have a headache for his bi-monthly nooky. Even the ones I weren't screwing used to loudly joke about it.Dad's house was at Arncliffe, not far. Betty was a little hesitant at first, but not wanting to be a party pooper she loosened up a bit (the drinks helped) and got out on the floor a couple of times. She got up to go to the bathroom and when she came back there were three guys sitting at the table with her friends. She wasn't too keen on the idea of the guys being there, but what the hell, safety in numbers, right? Another hour of drinking and dancing and it soon became apparent that her two friends had paired up with two of the. " I was confused. Then..... crack!!! White-hot fire across my bottom! I screamed into the gag. It must have been a cane, or something like it.Another.... yowwwww!!! No. No. Too much.Another.... the pain was.... too much....I felt nearness to my head. "Listen, slut. That was just a taste. Understand? You will *always* be keen and enthusiastic to accept my cock. OK?"I moaned and nodded. "Good. Now, where were we?"My legs were pulled apart, my body lifted a little. I felt a finger at my hole. I could hear him chortling behind the closed door as I walked away, smiling to myself. I had him — hook, line and sinker. ‘Damnit, Stacey!’ I shouted at the suitcase in the hotel room. It was bad enough I’d let her talk me into this quasi-insane plan, but apparently she’d repacked my bag when I’d snuck out of her bedroom to visit Michael. My carefully-chosen, not-too-casual, not-too-formal outfit I’d planned to wear that night was gone. In its place, I had an oh-so-short denim skirt, a vest,.
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