"OHMY GOD, I need to be making men cum!" It was as if her lips, mouth,throat, and lungs were conspiring together to make her sound like thesissy...faggot they knew she needed to be.The voice on the phone was sweeter now; less insistent; trying toencourage Pansy. "OMG, I NEED BE MAKING MEN CUM."Her words were so beautiful; so inspiring; so true. She tried to think ofwhat to reply back. She wanted to say the right thing. Then she got it.She knew just what to say: "OMG, I need to be making men. To do so would cause a lot of attention to be drawn to me and I think that we both know that that would be unwise. The house is yours now. The man that owned the house gave me his car too. I had the title transferred in your name. The title, registration and insurance papers are under the driver's seat. If I had kept the house it would have been a burden to me and might have called unwanted attention to me; so you are doing me a favor by taking it off my hands. I have friends that know how to. It’ll make it easier later.”He had a nice apartment off of Southport Road, a second floor walk-up with a balcony overlooking a center courtyard. I could feel his eyes on my ass as I walked up the steps in front of him. He managed to unlock the door and we went inside.“How about a drink, Matt? Have any wine?”“As a matter of fact, I do have some Sangria. Will that work?”“Perfect! Pour me a glass and let me get comfortable here.”I took off my sweater and took a look around. The décor was. My sex was throbbing fiercely at his words. I understood him so well it was as though we were one mind. How did he understand me so well? Where did he get such insights into my sexuality? Were all women the same or was I different? But the captain was sitting up in the bed. As I watched him, drowsily, my mind elsewhere, I saw that he was retrieving the leather belt from his trousers. My heart stopped and I suddenly felt afraid as I remembered his promise from yesterday: each day was to begin.