In retrospect, I suppose I was turned on. “Chuck?” She said with a puzzled, almost disgusted look on her face. “Well, we'll just have to change...that.” At that moment, I'm sure the look on my face said it all. Who the fuck does this bitch think she is. Come into my house, plop her shit in the living room, says she's moving in, and then thinks she's going to change my fucking name?! Bitch! Chuck is good enough for us country folk but not for you miss stuck up, upstate fucking bitch, (I thought. You know why I'm here, and judging by the office, you deal with people inmy situation pretty regularly."She sat, nonplussed. Or plussed, maybe. It didn't matter, to be honest. Finally, she spoke, "That's not the kind of therapy I do. Your case is alittle on the extreme side, but I'm confident we can get some resultshere." Lady, you don't even know me. How are you so sure we're gonna getresults?" Because, my dear, QES therapy has nothing to do with your 'feelings', or'personality', or even. While Martin’s dick was covered with soap suds I guessed his skin was just about as long as mine. From my understanding most of the men in this community are uncut, since we’re all well into our 80's. I guess when we were growing up our parents never thought of ‘trimming’ their sons. I’ve always been glad of that. As Martin rinsed off I did see that he was perhaps larger than I am and I would later find out that he’s closer to 9" and his overhang is almost an inch longer than mine is.Martin. She smiled. "Just so. And he will be here this evening." I will be happy to take care of that for you. Now, what would you like?"She stood and lifted her chin. "I'd like for you to get out of those clothes and join me in the next room."Happy that I had both bathed and shaved at the old madam's insistence, I took her elbow and followed her to her huge, canopied bed. I could not recall seeing another so high nor so ornate.I unbuckled my belt and pulled my shirt over my head. Then a sat down and.