One day, my grandma was helping host the local church jumble sale, which gave me several hours in her house alone. I wandered into her bedroom and ope...ed her Victorian wardrobe, admiring her collection of basques, girdles and suspender belts as they nestled with her lacy bras and panties. My young, trembling fingers gently caressed the soft fibres and my young prick hardened almost immediately in my trousers. The softness of the underwear and the faint perfumed aroma coming from the depths of. She also pulled my Dad’s plow, and he’d harness her to a buggy and occasionally give us rides into town. She was never permitted to wear clothes. It would be as silly to let her wear clothes as it would be to allow a Dog wear clothes. She slept in a cage and ate off the floor like a pet, and we treated her like a beloved family pet.When I entered puberty, my Dad offered to let Seven teach me the birds and the bees. He ordered her to teach me how to fuck and to please a woman. Seven never. We sit at one of the quieter tables, my wife, myself and a meticulously-dressed stranger who has invited us to join him. The conversation between us is easy and relaxed. Cities we have visited, shows we have seen, books read and plans for the coming days. But eventually we must leave and thanking him for the pleasure of his company we head to our room. At the exit I pause, explain that I’ve forgotten something but will be back in a moment. At my approach the man’s demeanour changes. His head. .. And up... and down... Oh, I wish I was there, and I wish that every time my hand went down on your shaft, my mouth encased your head as well. And what would I do? I'd flicker my tongue back and forth across that little V-shape, and I'd flick it up and down and side to side.Up and down and side to side, as my little hand wanked you. And soon, I'd find out that really, I didn't have quite enough energy, and I'd need you to urge me on by putting your hands through my hair and holding my head.