When the door opened cautiously and she smiled at me I knew I didn’t want to back out at all. ‘Fräulein Stempler? Christine?’ ‘Mister Y?’ s...e responded, unsure of herself and shy. ‘Yes, I am Mister Y. My friends call me Dace. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance,’ and offered my hand formally. Her pleasant smile was friendly and she extended her hand in a ladylike manner. She may be young, I thought to myself, but she held herself like a mature and gracious lady. Her self-assured posture. He repositioned himself and I knew then that my mouth and throat must've been lined up perfectly for him to fuck like a pussy - because that's exactly what he did for the next twenty-odd minutes, all the while telling me how laughable it was that I, or especially my wife, could even think of me as being a man. "Take my fucking dick, you faggot," he'd say while increasing the depth and tempo of his thrusts. After several more protracted rounds of choking and gagging, he asked if I was ready for. More

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