So I decided to hit the party circuit, it was the most happening party in the town, I was dressed to kill, there were a whole bunch of eyes staring me... to the core, I played the play well, playing slowly my well-etched ass, showcasing the necessary part of cleavage, which left something for imagination, I know how well the imagination of men runs, it always goes wild, the case which has to be. As usual I sat near the bar for my drink, as expected there were many suitors ready to buy me a drink,. The recitation excited him. The crotch of his cum-stained jeans swelled noticeably as he described what he was going to make Helen, "the little blonde dyke", do to the, "kid". A fantasy, Helen assumed, lifted wholesale from a late edition of "Lesbian Lust".Ma interrupted Patrick's monologue. "You ever butt-fuck your lady-wife, city-boy?" Spike readied the cattle-prod, certain Mark would fail to respond properly."No, Ma," he gulped, more fearful of the pain than of the shame in answering. "I've. One wall next to a door was a calendar. On top of it, two words were written in bold ‘Sex Count’. Then on each date column, there were lines.The lines were drawn to just the first four days of the month. Still, there were more than thirty lines. Indicating that she was fucked at least thirty times in the last four days. It was a prison for her. But it appeared as if she had gotten used to it as there were no expressions on her face.Suddenly a door opened and a man dressed in a security guard. Average Man - his life has been aseries of events - thus:Sometimes the pain was so intense that he wanted to die....Sometimes it was so agonizing that he was sure he would....And sometimes...Only sometimes...There was no pain at all.And he called those days "Good" - and the others he called "Bad." Forhe dwelt in a world of opposites and it came naturally to him to divide things into categories like black and white, positive and negative,long and short, male and female; and to express a.