No, this was for the working class Joe, the one that drove the trucks and put out the fires as the song goes. Or in George’s case, a FBI man on the ...look for his lady love. He chuckled at that thought. Who would have thought he would be in another low-down, cheap place like this on his night off. He couldn’t seem to stop though. He had to find her, she haunted him every second. Her hair, the way it smelt and moved as she walked. Her eyes, the way they light up when he suddenly came home from. Then marriage, with all of those plus everything else a loving husband wants to provide his spouse. Oh, and I love Donna, whom you have met in another story. I just occasionally crave an aspect of sex not available at home. Donna does, too. She occasionally wants a very large and/or very young cock and the chance to help educate a younger (adult) male to a more sophisticated level of sex than simple youthful pussy pounding. And that is okay with each of us, so long as we remain discrete between. Recently, I've had to revist in my mind, why I would want to hurt someone I may get in a relationship with. For some, my desire to hurt them would be a huge turn on, for some it's just the opposite. But regardless of how they may feel or would want to proceed, I have to be comfortable and own my own personal feelings on being a Sadist.Sadist are much like any other group of people, they are diverse in their beliefs and their world views. My thoughts are my own and I don't claim to speak for. As she emerged from the house, she immediately saw the man from outside the office, trudging heavily along the track. As she lifted the first case from the roof rack, he stopped, and leaned against a tree. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of showing her irritation, but bustled in and out of the house with the bags and cases then, when the last one was unloaded, pulled the Venetian blind across the front window. Peering through the slats, she was intensely annoyed to see that he hadn’t.