It’s not words he wants.What do I want? I can still ask this question, even as I rub my face against his thigh. We are alone here. He’s humiliated...me before with mortifying ingenuity. With any other man, my ego struts like an Olympic champion. With Byron, it’s like a drowning man grasping for phantom straws in a perverse tempest blowing within my id.I dismiss the Freudian bullshit. I have no excuses. The data do not lie. I am crawling naked in a barn to a man, other than my husband, who treats. The best form of lubrication, in my opinion, is natural and that's why they have such awesome tongues. If natural lubrication isn't sufficient use an adequate amount of any water-based lubricant, like our old friend KY Jelly.Another point of interest is that dogs are both similar and different from human males in a number of ways. Both are easily excitable and prone to be selfish, but a man will generally accept your good advice (if he's smart) and reign in his urgent desires so much as he's. This wasn't going to be the most comfortable journey. I guess that it may have been the heat but I started dozing. I woke a few times, my chin on my chest and I could feel him leaning against me taking up all the room and making me feel hot and sweaty.I must have fallen asleep and woke up feeling that something or someone was lightly touching my leg. I half opened my eyes and look down and he was holding the newspaper on his lap and the side of his hand was brushing against my leg. I didn't. I wanted to be daddy’s ONLY girl.Dad is a hard-working man. He is honest and honorable and responsible. He is very skillful at working on car engines, but where most other things are concerned, you couldn’t call dad bright. That wasn’t a problem for me, except that we never had quite enough money to get through the month without the phone or the water or something getting turned off for non-payment. Of course then there are extra charges to get the service turned on again, so we jus kept.