We made small talk for a few minutes, then, gesturing with my hands, offered the massage. Dierdre smiled and said I thought you'd never ask. I stood b...hind her, and gently massaged her shoulders and neck. After several minutes, I 'accidentally' slipped my hands down, to brush the sides of her breasts. At that, all pretense was over, Dierdre stood, and said, "Come with me." She led me to her bedroom, which was even more cluttered than the living room. Turning her back to me, she pulled off her. "Well, for starters, the more you look at them, the more you want... no,the more you *need* to look at them some more." Oh, is that all," I roll my eyes."It only works for the kind of men who like to wear panties," Morgengives me a knowing look. "Transvestite or transsexual men. I'm sure thatmy father or I could stare at them for hours and then never give themanother thought. But for men who want to wear panties... for those sortsof men... well if you even just glance at them, then you'll find. The pain from his size was just too much. Her cervix couldnt take the pain from the intrution. It throbbed painfully, rather steadily. He pulled back so the tip was the only thing still inside her. He waited for her body to calm down a bit before using enough force to send his full 14 inches into her. This time she didnt scream, didnt cry, didnt wail, didnt buck, cause the pain was equivalent to someone shoving a knife into your kidney and twisting it, its too much pain to do anything. He. That particular night shift her thoughts curiously shifted to Malcolm Johnson. She'd known Malcolm, a black male nurse, for years and even though they occasionally worked together on the same shift, she'd never really considered him to be someone to ever fool around with. To be sure, they'd talked a lot and sometimes the banter got a little smutty. When no one else was around, their conversations were frequently filled with innuendo and even overtly sexual comments. However, other than the.