Back in the locker room I was again caught short. I'd come with a bathing suit and nothing else. Tim shared his locker with me — we'd earlier stuffe... all our clothes in there. At The Club, the men's change room upstairs had attendants with towels. The boys' change room in the basement had no such amenities — certainly no gratis towels for the heathens. Trying to emulate the behaviour I'd seen in the men's locker room in those days past with my father, I stripped off my speedo and tried to act. “Of course she wants it darling. She’s ours. She’ll do anything we want.” “Well?” Peter said softly to me. “Oh yes.” I breathed. “Yes what?” he said, “Tell me exactly what you want me to do.” “I need you to screw me. Fuck me. Bury your cock inside me and fuck me until I die.” I almost sobbed. I had started to masturbate him hard while I was begging to him, and Carla had dropped her hand down and slipped her finger inside me. Peter’s balls were thumping against the back of her hand as she. More

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