I tried posting my first CL ad. It was something simple, bi guy looking for a couple. Blah blah blah. I also added one of my best cock pictures. I got...a couple replies but nothing serious. But then I got one from a guy commenting on my picture. He wasn't part of a couple but liked my picture. Feeling naughty, I replies asking for his picture. He sent one back and it was a nice thick cock. Soon we were exchanging more pictures, likes and dislikes. Soon we were chatting with instant messenger and. “Oh my god, oh my goddddddd. Please keep fucking me, Mr. Carl. I can’t believe, I never thought.” Katie couldn’t finish a sentence; she was completely gone. “Fuckkkkkkkkkkk. Please don’t stop!” Mr. Carl wound his hand in her hair, pulling her head up off the table so he could hear every word. “Keep begging for it, you dirty little slut, my naughty little girl. Mr. Carl is going to make you pay for your lies. You deserve this fucking, you bad little girl.” “I am such a bad little girl! I’m so. I start touching yourself over my pants, drifting off into fantasy while I look at the back of their heads, remembering how they look, their big breasts hiding under their summer dresses.One of them stand up, turn around and we make eye contact. She smiles but I am so embarrassed I avert my eyes. "Don't want to seem creepy, that will ruin my chances. Oh god that was probably creepy, it's over. I'll spend the festival alone." I panic.Before my train of though finish I notice she's standing over. I never got caught nor did I ever hear mention of someone’s been rummaging in her boudoir.If I knew what a junkie was, I was a pantyhose junkie and didn’t know it. If OCD was a thing back then, I had it and didn’t know. Just thinking of pantyhose and lingerie would get my little button stiff. Whenever I heard my mom say she would step out shopping or getting her hair done or whatever women did for hours on end, my mind and libido started thinking about pantyhose and rubbing out another stream.