There wasn’t any way to deny that.Betsy asked, “You don’t think I look a little butch?”“What?” Claire asked, surprised by the question.“...ell, you know I’m kind of muscular and physically built. I don’t think that...”Linda interrupted, “That doesn’t make you look butch.”“There’s no question that you’re a woman,” Kelly said.Claire said, “You’re beautiful.”“I guess,” Betsy said softly.She lifted her robe and stared at her legs. She didn’t have dancer’s legs. She didn’t have the legs of a super. This led to her imagining herself doing things she considered impossibly dirty, and it was no longer entirely clear with whom she was doing them. Faceless men surrounded her, stroking their cocks and waiting for a turn with her pliant body. The mental image alone drove her crazy with lust. As her climax arrived, her mind was filled by the vivid memory of Wormtongue-as-Boromir’s tongue reaming her wet vessel. She desperately tried to cling to the image of the Steward’s son, or even a room full. More

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