But I was puling her ass cheeks apart as part of the massage.. and a couple times my finger tips touched her asshole.. wouldn't have done it had I bee... watching but I was focused on the game.. it was theSuper Bowl.She later told me that when my finger tips touched her asshole she began to get turned on.. really turned on. But good old me, kept watching the game as I began massaging her feet, lower thighs and upper thighs and moving back to the cheeks of her ass... I then reached down and. I found a new kind of enjoyment in all of this. I imagine it’s just as difficult to explain the allure of masochism as it is to explain sexual preference. The best way I know to explain it is that the more I thought of myself in these punishment scenarios the more I wanted it. I got to enjoy the pleasures of sex while suffering the punishment for my behavior at the same time. Chapter 2 I didn’t start dating again until after I graduated college. In a fit of spiritual revival I decided to. I remember wondering if he had worked out that the nude woman in the painting was me. And I remember being turned on at the thought. Plus, he had those big, beautiful, brown eyes. And the way he was looking at me! Guys of my age don’t look at me that way. So... knowing, so penetrating....so, is that why I talked to him?Maybe. I mean, it was supposed to be a marketing event, and he was looking at my painting, so it was the perfect opportunity....okay, then what?Then he said I was beautiful. I. Nice guy Joe, biggest individual I ever met, at least six foot eight, and about three hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. Real family man is Joe, about the only thing he hates more than wife abusers are child molesters.” My years of studying martial arts told me the moment that Edgar worked up the courage to attack me. “You think you’re so clever, you pervert,” he screamed, and then as I knew he would, he charged forward intent on crushing me in a bear hug.Sidestepping his attack, I.