At the top of the chest’s neatly packed contents were letters written in a woman’s graceful hand. The old man set them aside for later. Gramophone...platters were next. They couldn’t be listened to anymore. The ancient gramophone had broken down some years before, and the old man had been unable to obtain a replacement. With a wheezed sigh, he set the black discs down beyond the letters. The old man’s back began to wail then, like the banshees of myth, so he peered around for something upon which. I thought about them; thought about her as I wanked. I fantasised about her: sometimes her display was one of utter innocence, she was the oblivious schoolgirl to my perverted voyeur; more often it was a deliberate display, and she watched me wank until my cock erupted and I spurted cum all over her in a depraved act of worship. Either way, it was really happening and was a massive turn-on; and balancing on the knife-edge only served to make the associated fantasies more exciting and the. Girls would laughand whistle as the men blushed deep red and tried to mince alongfaster, one hand firmly pressed to their skirts.The women had been confused initially, but then (with my help) they hadbegun seeing these latest developments as incredibly sexy. I made them at least as crazy for tits and asses as the boys had everbeen.But the men's changes extended beyond the physical.Jimmy reacted first, as children will. After sitting for a while onemorning with an odd expression on his little. Just then there was a knock on my door, it was the manager with a spare key. Brian got up, grabbed his bucket of ice, and the manager let him in his room. I was so hard I didn't want to stand up when he left so I just waved at him. What a night.I resumed my position on the bed, opened my robe and then BANG! BANG! BANG! another knock on the door, but this time it was the inside door. I knew it was Brian. I jumped up and wrapped my robe around me again. I opened the door and there he was again.