You want to please him very badly right now. You want to taste his cum. You want to feel him shoot down your throat.You begin to slide down his massiv... cock. Bobbing up and down. Taking him deeper and deeper. "Ahhh, you're very good at this." The compliment strokes your ego and makes you wet all over again. "Yeah, take that cock deep. Ah yeah. Does that cock seem familiar? It should. It's yours. Or at least used to be. I had your cock in my mind while I transitioned. I've worshiped that cock. Then, with this success he'd be motivated to go outof his way to learn other things that women like to talk about with eachother.***A couple of weeks later was a dinner party at Glen and Pamela's housewith several other couples including Debbie and Bruce. While a roast wascooking in the oven the men congregated in the den and the ladies sat inthe living room. This time Gerald made no effort to be with the men.Joan had directed him to wear a light blue dress that she had picked outfor him though. She checked outside the door through the spy hole, opened the door and pulled it quietly shut behind her. She gained the stairwell and raced headlong down and down, bursting out of the rear entrance where the black BMW sat, engine ready. Throwing the case onto the rear seat, she clambered in beside Angie who gunned the car away from the kerb and into the city’s traffic. Frances leaned across to kiss her. ‘I got the fucking bitch.’ Her hand went to Angie’s crotch and was swatted away. ‘Wait. Let. .. Stephen" What does that mean?" Carly thought. "Why is he looking forward to seeing me, and talking to me?" She thought about that. "He's your son, you idiot! You're getting paranoid, Carly!" She read through another half dozen emails, replied to a few, then shut down the computer. Carly tried to read, but found she couldn't focus. After ten minutes she put her book aside and turned out the light. But she couldn't sleep any more than she could read.Carly's mind was racing. She was unable to.