And then, with Zara back in New York and me with my nose back at the grindstone, we went back to exchanging notes and postcards. But, looking back, I ...ealise that the frequency of our correspondence had begun to diminish. I guess we were both pretty busy. And then it was February again. The idea of sending Zara a Valentine’s Day card was more of a joke than anything. Ironically, the card that I sent her had come all the way from America — and I was sending it back again. How silly was that? But. At one end of the room was a small platform – calling it a ‘stage’ was doing a disservice to the word. But it was raised up about 20 centimetres off the floor, and there was enough room for a small group, maybe four or five people to set up and play. Frank had found an extension lead for me to use, along with a suitable padded stool. Once we had everything connected, I did a quick test of the sound levels – I didn’t want it too loud so that I would drown out conversation in the bar. Using the. "Didn't he used to have a dickie? I'm sure he did," she went on. "Imean, I know it was real tiny one, but it was there wasn't it?" "He certainly did," Carole answered. "But not any more. Now he has a pussifyinstead. Would you like to see it?" "Oh, yes, please," Kathy answered. "A pussify! Well, he's more and more likea little girl, isn't he?" "He sure is. Wait until you see!" Then Carole turned to Tom. "Take off yourpanties, sissy, and lie down on the couch." Tom did as instructed, and Kathyand. He held my thighs and pulled me down hard and fast on his tongue forcing it inside me. I screamed then started to whimper as my body started to tremble. He repeated this act over and over again. When I began to scream his name he started to suck and lick on my clit again, except this time he started to finger me at the same time. I couldn’t hold on much longer. Moments later I started to scream like a mad woman as I felt volt after volt of electricity start to surge trough my body. Multiple.