Oh, women wanted him. Men wanted to be him. And writers needed him, if only to read his works, mourn their own ineffective use of prose, and wallow lu...uriously in their own self-pity that the sharp, finely honed words of his craft were not theirs.Yes, an evening with Frank Leigh was a prize indeed. The rules were simple: write an original poem entitled “Kiss”. Submit the poem. Await the announcement of the winner. The winner would spend the evening with Frank Leigh at the location of their. Martina said 'I want to transform you into a beautiful woman; you'resoft and feminine and will make a great and popular girl; you can movein here with me and we can live together. During daytime you can takecare of the house and service me at night. In exchange I assure you theultimate fulfilment of your fantasy.' Johnny just sat there not sayinga word. He spoke finally that the offer was more than he wanted and sohe was even more pleased to oblige. Martina stood up and startedundressing. She. Pauline was doing whatever she had to do to take care of her son, I understood that. She had all those phone numbers handy for a reason and I was willing to bet she called them regularly. Whatever Pauline might have been after high school, she'd ended up a mother, and she wasn't running away from it. I had to respect that.It didn't help my brother a whole lot though, and if anything it put him in a bad light. It occurred to me that Pauline might not have wanted anything more than an honest. I then lost track of how many times I came on the Rottweiler’s cock. I had never come so many times during a session of sex before…I could feel his cock twitch pleasantly inside me every time he dumped another load into my cunt and I could feel a growing, gently swirling liquid pressure inside me.As he pumped me, Leon’s hot, furry body was bracketing mine, keeping me in place tethered by the long, solid column of his cock buried deep inside me.Even though we were not tied by his red knot, Leon.