He grabbed my hand, kissed it and said: "Here, touch it. I want you know how a real man feels." as he led my hand to it. I felt it, it was hard, but s...ft; rough, but smooth; manly, but delicate. I LOVED HOW IT FELT, how warm it was. "You can stroke it. Have you played with yours?" he asked and I nodded, "Then do the same with mine", I obeyed. I remember feeling so powerful, like I was handling this delicate piece of his manhood, I felt privileged. He started to moan lightly, my stroking was. In her fantasy she was a slave, taken in the night or in the day, or really at any time in anyplace. She was tied up so that struggle as she might she could not escape her bonds. Then she was left for a period of time, how long changed with the day but always she was desperate by the time the assailant returned. She would struggle with renewed vigour when the man returned, trying to escape his touch. But when he touched her it was always like lightning, a bolt shooting through her, all her. More

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