.pulling it off over my shoulders and sliding it down my back...her hands slowly moved over my shoulders and down my chest...they continued down to my...jeans and one by one...she unbuttoned my fly. I had dressed in a hurry early so I just tossed on jeans and nothing else...and as the buttons came undone, my cock eagerly sprang to attention. A brief glance back up to my eyes...followed by her head dipping down and within seconds...my cock was in her mouth. I fell back on the bed and Sue began. A very fine sight these local dignitaries make in English hunting pink on fine horses. The only way you would know it wasn't the Quorn or some other English meet is that all the Kobekistanis are excellent riders. That and the hounds, of course." The hounds, Sir?" We use pure-bred Irish Wolfhounds. I believe I own more of them than anyone else in the world, by a very large margin. We need them for the sort of country we have, and the quarry is a slave, usually female." Expensive, using slaves,. He put his hands to my shorts and pulled them down, exposing my penis and tuft of short, cropped blonde pubes. “Look at this”, he laughed as he shook my limp muscle. “You need to shave all that though” He felt my body, running his hands over my chest, nipples, back and arse, spreading the cheeks and admiring what I concealed within.“Ok”, he said. “Up against that tree there”.He gestured to a tall pine beside the path and I moved in and held the trunk, bending my waist so that he had access.. " She lookedat me with a calm and indifference that was frightening and waited for myresponse."Yes, Ma'am, but not implants. I wanted to feel what real breasts andthe sensations they could create would be like." My heart was poundingin my chest now. I was coming face to face with who I wanted to be, andwhere I had questioned the possible, it was coming to pass in front ofme."It is possible to experience more than you can imagine. This is yourchoice, no one will make it for you. If it is.