With a firm and steady grip she began to work my cock back and forth. Her head sliding down to get a closer look at my cock. As she turned to look up ...at me she smiled that special smile and then slid the head of my cock into her warm and moist mouth. Her left hand began to rub my balls and she worked the entire length of my cock with her tongue. She moaned with each stroke of cock into her mouth. I couldn’t believe what was happening and I was still in shock. Then I slide my own hands down. The first memory I have is getting spanked. Then, spanking myself. Sadly, it didn't really hurt. Not like it did when my dad spanked me.Interviewer: That is...strange.Me: Well, you wouldn't be here, interviewing me, if I was normal, now would you?He shook his head no.Interviewer: So, you, reacted...differently to being spanked.Me: Not just to being spanked. It was, well, everything.Interviewer: Like?Me: For example, when I got thumped, I remember repeatedly thumping myself. When my mom smacked. Whenever I would have sex dreams it would always be from a women’s point of view. Eventually, it became my second self. I didn’t especially hate my male body, I just was never especially fussed about it or at home in it. I had no frame of reference on whether my cock was anything to write home about because my only reference point was through porn. During my later years, I started to experiment with my sibling’s clothes. Augmenting my body to make a more pleasing, more feminine body. I was a. Lawrence’s best-known novel were out. Constance went to a local bookstore and bought a copy. She sat down in a nearby coffee shop and started reading. She did not intend to ever like the book. She despised writers who wrote of the woes of people, very few could make a character both pathetic and likable. Romeo and Juliet were just two horny kids who took sex too seriously and died needlessly. Yes, even Shakespeare was not immune to her cynicism. She read a few chapters and finished her coffee..