The following Saturday at the prearranged time, Mark meet me at the door of the centre, a non descript building in the middle of a rather run down are...a of the city centre. There was no sign outside (this was the early 1980s don't forget and 'queer bashers' were not only numerous, they were actively encouraged!). "Feeling nervous?" asked Mark as he shook my hand (which I noticed was firm and not in the least bit 'girly' as I'd expected). "Yeah" I replied, not looking directly at him. "Well,. But when 20 women are after you, then this can be a little intimidating for you. This was when I've learned the meaning of what it's like to be looked as a peace of meat. These ladies didn't look at me as a person. They looked at me as a guy to fuck, in exchange for some compensation, after I do my penetration.I came to meet these ladies alright. But I couldn't give every hot lady a good ride. There were too many of them. I ended up saying 'No!' a lot, even to some really hot ladies for. ”Hope lit up his boyish face. “What do I have to do?”“Oh, all sorts of things. For a start, get this place cleaned up. Then tomorrow…” I grabbed his dick again, and wiped the end with my wadded underwear. Then I unravelled it and held it in front of his face. There were several slightly yellowed damp patches on the white material now, and a couple of remaining gobbets of goo. “You are going to wear these. All day.”“What?!” he cried in dismay, the post-orgasmic glow evaporating in an instant.. I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Riley stood up in front of me, parting my legs with a tap of her foot, so she could stand between them. I watched as she turned and faced away from me, and then slowly and suggestively peel her jeans from her body, looking back at me, to gauge my reaction. She had on a pink thong which barely covered what needed to be covered. She stepped out of the jeans and faced me, biting down on her lower lip, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. Riley.