Not knowing what came over me I excused myself and walked to the ladies bathrooms. I wasn’t gone long…and returned with my right hand clenched. I ...settled into the soft seat and you watched me as I opened my hand slowly. My fingers loosened and I am holding my thong smelling of my sexual essence, damp with my juices. I shifted my weight and my skirt shifted with me. You caught a glimpse of my cunt lips glistening in the dim light from the screen. Your nostrils flare as you smell my scent. But he persists, like a good soldier, like his daddy had always told him to do with all things, and in that persistence he had grown mean. He doesn’t realize this quite yet, he doesn’t hear the casual disdain in his voice when he compliments women on their bodies, their clothes, doesn’t realize that he sounds rude, even dangerous, when he invites them home for drinks, and more recently, blatantly, sex, isn’t consciously aware of the change between the pitying, uncomfortable glances and offended. That was the clue which unlocked my mystery.What was this thing I did to women whenever my dick got hard? It had begun wholly without any knowledge or control on my part. Dick hard - women horny. Life expectancy, less than a year. Somebody else was bound to figure it out, and there was no way I could continue a program of masturbation five to eleven times a day. I'd wear my cock down to the size of a tooth pick! I still wasn't sure it was me, but I was pretty sure. Maybe it was just my dick.So. Like bad?" She kind of laughed and said, "You didn't approach her for that did you?" When I shook my head vigorously no, she said "so you did it for her," sister Beth patted my hand and said, "Many of the girls become home sick, and cuddling in bed gives them comfort. I have seen many times when a girl will massage another girl's breasts in her sleep, I think because it comforts them by bringing back memories of being a c***d," "Oh," I said slowly, "So... so it... it isn't bad?"sister Beth.