He lifted himself up as I did so, moaning in pain. He was wearing plain white Cin2 briefs and his soft thighs were covered with black hairs. There was...a stab-wound on the inside of his left thigh, close to the seam of his underpants and there was dried and matted blood on his hairy skin and on the white of his briefs. I pulled off his jeans and he just lay there.Fetching a bowl of warm water, clean cloths and antiseptic, I put them down beside the bed and then carefully sat him up to remove. I used to go this tailor's shop to stitch my school uniforms every year. But it was in the 7th grade that he started doing these dirty things to me. When he was taking my measurements, his hand accidentally(i think so) pressed against my crotch region. I felt somewhat embarrassed, but unintentionally i got erect. It was my mistake, i know, but i just couldn't do a thing because it was an autonomous reaction. His hand again hit on my crotch while taking the measurements of my trousers. This. Her reddish blonde hair was messed up. She was wearing jeans and a jersey with a big number 40 on it. She turned her head my way and opened her eyes."I'm fucked up," she said."No shit. How much have you had to drink?" Just three beers," she answered. Three? She acted the way I did after six or so. I was glad, though. It meant she would probably get straight sooner than later. I pulled in at a gas station to get her a cup of coffee. "Stay in the car," I told her. There was no response.When I. It took about thirty minutes for them to try something on, come to me for an opinion, second guess my opinion only to have it reconfirmed by their friends, and buy most everything they picked out. That was the process for the next store after that as well.I don't know what the hell I was thinking after they pulled me into the Victoria's Secret store. I could barely contain the erection brought on by these lovely ladies each time they tried something on then came out for me to see. Especially.