You nod.He stands up and grabs the bag and walks to the safe. Moving to the side so that you can watch him he pulls the already open door wide and pla...es the bag in on top of a neatly folded red woman's tank top and black boy shorts. Then he closes the door and you hear the sounds the lock engaging."We can talk about if you'll ever be changing back later. For now, there are other things that need attention." Walking back toward the bed his massive cock is so stiff it barely wiggles side to side. The bar survived solely on the men that worked in the fields. My sister and I shared a room, my brother slept in the living room, and my parents had their own bedroom. It was in that room that I saw what would occupy my mind for the rest of my life. The men that worked the fields were mostly married men with there families back in Mexico, they would get off work and come to the bar to spend there money, and where there’s men and money, there are prostitutes. One night I woke up to. And I was irrevocably changed, whether I liked it or not. I think Marian should be named the African Goddess of Passion and Renewal, folks. I swear when she came into my life, the sun shone brighter and water tasted sweeter. I am not kidding. She was transforming me, minute by minute, day by day. Yeah, I was falling in love with the lovely Marian McArthur. Formerly of the United Kingdom and currently of Ottawa, Ontario. My fellow Criminology student at Carleton University, Canada’s capital. "No no, you don't have to stop honey." Honey he called me. I closed my eyes and began to get lost in the sensation and circumstance. "That looks like it feels good" he said as he walked over to me. "But I don't want you to squirt on my sofa. Get up for a second." I reluctantly stopped and stood. I was getting close and there was a little wet spot where my erection had been sliding on the soft material. He sat right on the spot, looked at me and patted his thigh. "Lay across my lap honey" I did.