Still naked, I walked back to my bedroom and fished the pantyhose backout of my hidden stash. I untangled and unrolled them a bit. I saw thediamond of... cotton in the crotch of hose. They are called "panty"-hose fora reason. Maybe I don't need to wear underwear with them. I worked thestocking back over my legs and over my naked bum and returned to thebathroom for the mirror. I was much more pleased with how I looked now.And the hose felt better with less hair. My boy parts were still bulgingin. Her heel that is stuck in my asshole. I'm thankful for the blunt steel tip. It must be inside me a good 3 inches. I lean forward on my knees and suck faster, arching my back even more to make sure she has access to my sissy hole.We had been seeing each other for several months. I had screwed up the courage to tell her how I felt and we quickly became lovers. Although she never loved me. I was her little sex toy. Big dick, long hair, muscular yet thin. We played out of her biker fantasies. She. I lay upon her for at least several minutes, absorbing the beauty of the girl and the evil beauty of the rape. She lay beneath me, rather still, sobbing quietly. I’m sure the pressure on her bound-up arms and legs still hurt. And my cock was still pretty hard, filling her tight pussy. Finally I propped myself up on my elbows, looking down at her. With my fingertip I started tracing her lovely face, memorizing the smallest details of her eyebrows, nose, cheeks, lips, chin, for my memory bank.. .. and he didn't mind that she was 35 ... he was ten years younger.Actually ... he didn't mind anything about her ... except that he worried about her head. If she truly was the age she looked then he was willing to overlook the teenage angst that besets most American teens. She would grow out of it.If she was the age her birthdate specified he expected her to understand he was a simple minded male. Not that he considered himself suffering from that condition ... what untrained male does?Tom.