Of an alien. Agnes is… her petiteness is endearing, sensual, lights up a primal part of his brain that wants to envelop her, protect her, hold her d...wn and fuck her until she can’t walk. Her face is the very definition of prettiness. It suits her shy nature perfectly, her eyes aren’t sultry, there are no suggestive lines to the angles in her face. She’s charming, attractive in an innocent way, exactly the kind of girl an old man like him is the most drawn to, maybe because he would be so. One flower. He handed out just one of the promised favours. I feel a tightening in my chest. He handed it to me. I expected to come, see lots of beautiful things and leave. No roses were landing in my lap according to my plans, and yet here one is, the innocent velvet petals smiling up at me from the exquisite bloom. The tightening in my chest drifts lower to my thighs as I feel the familiar eyes of a particular stranger settle on me and people begin to leave.I'm not entirely sure what I am. She stopped shrinking and realized he did this so men could tower over her. She was used to being on an equal playing field or being taller.“5 foot 2 inches should be perfect for you. Nice and compact. You’ll be easy to move around everyone will think you’re just adorable with that voice and face at this height.” He was absolutely musing now to her. Like an artist does when explaining their work.“What are those B-Cups? Pathetic. You want to have fun with a man? You need to entice him in with. Imagining that never failed to make me cum pretty quickly. And, of course—as I slid my hand up and down my dick—I always fantasized about me fucking her from behind so I could see her big ass shaking while I fucked her!When I was 22-years-old, my uncle Greg died of a heart attack, leaving Joyce a widow at the age of 54. Not wanting to be alone for awhile, my aunt Joyce had a string of visitors staying with her for awhile, and, at one point, I was one of her guests. When I pulled up, she came.