I on the other hand, told her, I would like to see her with other men. We still made love regularly, about two or three times a week, but sometimes, I...must admit, I would be thinking about someone else.Things didn't change much until the holiday season at Christmas. We were at a small party up the street, and Debbie was wearing a smart two-piece outfit, which had a rather short skirt and the jacket she had worn daringly without a blouse, just over her well-filled bra. I must admit seeing her. The women started to yell insults like “TINY!” and "PATHETIC!” at me (I didn’t say they were original, did I?) and most bent double with laughter. Through all this I had forgotten the fat Geordie bitch standing beside me, my prosthetic dick still in her hand. “Hold ‘im Brenda!” One of the audience shouted, and she gripped my struggling hands even tighter, slipping her huge bingo winged arm around my neck. The audience started to make their way to the front of the stage to get a better look at. More

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