When it started, I didn't think about it much, and then later I thought I must be a misogynist, but now I don't think so." A mis ... what?" Oh, sorry.... A misogynist, someone who hates women. I don't think I am one, because I don't have any desire to hurt women to whom I'm not attracted sexually. That is, if I hate women, I certainly don't hate all women. It has occurred to me, of course, that if I'm not sexually attracted to someone then I can't think of her as a woman, and then maybe the. And that was not by my choice at all. Simply put once I was away from where my father could easily influence events and where he was not apt to travel the attitude of those he 'hired' to take me out of my home country changed. Suddenly I was like any other, no I think, lower than the girls they had payed to gain access too. At least that was my perception. Then again until the moment that one of them demanded to be able to examine me intimately I had no clue that they were anything except for. They both said they were in no hurry and had nothing to go home to and it just sounded like a damn good idea. Then they stammered about not having bathing suits. She said that it was dark enough in there that they could sit in the buff and no parts would be exposed. She would get in first, just for comfort's sake and then they could strip down and get in. Shawna walked out to the cabana, dropped her shorts, which were damn near soaked from the thoughts running through her head. Still not really. I heard Janet say, "Ooooh Kathleen that felt great against my marigold, hurt him more so he does it again". "I'll lean forward and you let him get a couple of breaths first and we will keep going". This carried on for what seemed an age until Janet obviously orgasmed on my face and finally they both got off me. I was sobbing and unable to move, everything hurt, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw and most of all my stomach.Kathleen knelt down and Janet squatted on the bed, "Fuck me Janet look at the.