Usually it makes me tense when he feels them, but somehow today it made me feel good. I think I started to feel like I wanted him to do more, even kno...ing that it always leads to intercourse (fucking, as he likes to call it), well almost always. Today I wanted more, I don’t know why. I wish he’d come home and hold me close some more, just hold me tight. Yes, he can squeeze my breasts and press his cock into my backside. He sometimes feels my ass and my pussy, which is a strange conflict,. My spit was running down his balls and I was rolling them between my fingers again. “Oh shit, that feels so good, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” he kept chanting. I knew the buttons to push and I worked his dick with my mouth. I stared deep in his eyes and I started sucking my finger. He knew the routine and spread his legs. I took my wet finger and lightly caressed the tender skin around his asshole. I barely touched it but he almost jumped out of his skin. My objective was not to. I backed away from them on bare feet, putting distance between them and me. I shook my head in disbelief. Had I gone crazy? Was this all a delusion that was happening in the moments before his fist crashed into my head?Or had he hit me so hard that I was hallucinating? That I was really lying unconscious on the locker room floor, my head split open, my neurons misfiring and conjuring this... This strange—I backed into the wall. I felt the cold, painted cinder blocks at my back. My head cast to. "Please help? My car tyre is flat and I cannot get the bolts off, I'm not strong enough, could you help me please?" She asked. Being a young strong man I easily turned the bolts off and changed the tyre. Took me all of five minutes but I got my hands all black with the rubber and dirt from the tyres."Come inside and wash your hands and would you like a cup of tea perhaps." She said when I had finished.As I went in I realised it was the same house where the mysterious person was watching me.