Its like crack for writers, we'd sell our own mothers for a good hit. Alternately, comments that are negative without anything constructive to contrib...ute, or a "Thumbs Down" is like a bad trip, many authors will become discouraged, or give up entirely in the face of this kind of feedback. So when you're leaving feedback, keep this in mind.-Please, dont be THAT punk who gives negative feedback, then never takes the time to give a little constructive criticism to explain why.-To all of you other. I matched the bra with a pair of white cotton knickers. It felt so nice stepping into them, drawing them up my legs and snuggling them in place. The waistband held my hard penis against my tummy. I looked in the wardrobe mirror. With my panty-bulge and the top half of my shaft sticking out of my knickers I was obviously a boy from the front; but viewed from the back I could have been a slim teenage girl. I looked so sexy. I spent some time posing, sticking out my bottom and looking coquettishly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" blurted out a dazed Ron. "Shut it cracker. You cooperate and we don't hurt you. We just want the cash and any other valuables," shouted the largest black ruffian. Ron was pulled to his feet by two of the other black men while the largest one, who was obviously the leader, tied Ron's hands behind his back with his belt. Ron heard the fourth member of the gang whistle and shout, "Shiiit, look at those tits." Ron instantly remembered his scantily clad. I shouldn't have to play these kinds of games with them. It would be a lot more efficient to call them all in together and just have the one meeting. I stopped myself, again, realizing that was only my way. I'd learned my lesson already, that my way didn't work with these men. It was time I tried something that might work. I picked my phone back up and dialed Phil's number. He answered me on the first ring, like he'd been waiting right by the phone. I took that as a good sign."Hey, Phil. Kenny.
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