He stood a whopping 5' 4” tall and was as skinny as a rail. He had delicate, feminine features, sandy blond hair, blue eyes and a lilting voice.Ever...one liked his upbeat, outgoing spirit that was full of humor. He didn't have a lover because the school was so small, but gave an occasional blow job or very selectively allowed his cute, little ass to be plowed by the few closet gays and bi-curious jocks. However, he was particular in that regard, preferring small to average cocks over the. Sam was extremely racist, he kept abusing me and asking me to leave the house or run away from his sons house. I knew it would be hard for him to accept me. He may never accept me. Now i was massaging his feet and he asked me to massage his thighs. I was massaging his thighs that my hand touched his bulge. He said "Keep your filthy hands away from my cock". I stayed quite and kept massaging him. He then said "You must not even have a cock". It was too disrespectful and i slashed out i said i. She whispered to Wendy and Cathy, the only ones knowing of her plan.At 9:30, the doorbell chimed. “Karen, I believe the door is for you,” Vicky smiled.“You didn’t, did you? Did you order a stripper to deliver a pizza to us?”“Heaven’s no, I wouldn’t so that!” She couldn’t help an innocent-like laugh.Karen opened the front door to a man holding a large pizza box in his hands. “I have a pizza delivery for a Karen Miller, something to eat on her last night of freedom before getting married!” He. After all, he had shown me so much more, which I had put to good masturbatory use, every night.Finally the night came, my hair was fully back to its obscene glory. My son was complimenting my pictures, saying how good it looked being hairy "down there" and his language had improved tremendously as well. I put a fresh coating of paste wax on the bathroom mirror and finally "forgot" to close the bathroom door.My son must have been checking the bathroom door religiously since my first escapade..