I twirl around to face you and tear off your shirt. I lean into you barely skimming my nipples against your body. Your belt is the next to go...I slip... it out of your belt loops but you snatch it out of my hands. I bend over daring you to use it. You smack me with it leaving pleasure and pain. I gasp then take off your pants and boxers revealing your magnificent manhood. I feel you put your hand on my back...you run your hand over my ass, cheek to cheek and then in between my thighs. I feel your. Such a strong desire to be one gender over the other seemed to me a wasted desire. It was nothing like the desire to live. But in John, it was much stronger than his desire to live. Why? I asked again and again and saw no answer. It just did not compute. However, even with his intense desire, John did not act. Why? That was a more complicated question than I first thought. Originally I thought it was fear. He was scared of the consequences. He was afraid that people would think . "He practically fell all over himself apologising. The last thing in the world he would want to do was hurt me, he loved me more than anything, if there was anything he could do to make it up to me he would.There was the word I was looking for - "anything."I told him he really hurt me down there and I wanted him to fix it like he used when I got hurt.He argued back that washing it and putting bactine on it wouldn't work like it did on a scraped knee.I told him what made it better wasn't washing. She continued to work for our family my father bought her to our house she started to live with us as she had no other place to go.i was made responsible for her doctor visits and check ups we became good friends .before we just knew each other.to describe her she was not beautiful she was about 5feet 1inc in height quiet large built black in colour with real big boobs i think she had a size 44d cups big ass and big belli now she was pregnant which made her look even big then before.One day i.