Until I got into an environment where other kids my age were baring their all, I assumed there wasn't anything special about me. I was the size I was;...no big deal.I'd been playing with myself since late in the fourth grade. I discovered the drawer where my father hid his Playboys, and for some reason, it just seemed natural to put one hand all the way in my pocket for a bit, then pull down my shorts or unzip my pants and massage myself while looking at the pictures and the cartoons. Not that I. There was plenty of time for fucking too and she was happy with that. She had started to phone her husband early in the evening when they got back to the hotel, it seemed that was easier as he then never bothered to phone later on. It worked out well. Matt was becoming more and more attentive as the week went on. The sex lasted longer and it became more loving. Jane looked at Friday’s parcel. It said open in the evening only. She was a little disappointed at that, she would have to find her own. "? We both blushed at this, my cock twitched painfully, and my wife yelped for some reason that I was not yet aware.? "Just so that you're both aware of what the other is going through, and because it'll amuse me to see you squirm, I'll describe what you're both experiencing.? Let's start with Ian shall we?? His pathetic excuse for manhood is being tortured using a a combination of a vice, which is crushing and stretching his nuts, and a needle tube which is causing him excruciating pain. I’ve always wanted a woman who was seriously wild. You know, a wanton slut willing and able to do anything and everything to please me in bed. I’m not overly kinky or perverted, but my wife likes to do it in the dark, missionary style, and she always has some lame excuse when I suggest something to spice up our sex life. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard her say stuff like “Someone might see us,” “I don’t like the taste,” “that’s just gross,” “I’m not flexible enough,” or “Isn’t what we.