"What the fuck, over!"What the hell are you talking about? I was in a coma. How could I do anything? I didn't damage your MRI machine." Sir, I didn't ...ean to imply that you damaged the machine intentionally or even consciously. I meant that it is my theory that you somehow caused the cloudy effect in your and subsequent scans," Dr. Bill Jackson hastened to say. "What I would really like to do is discuss this with you after you are discharged tomorrow. I'll do the discharge paperwork this. The urge to satisfy that curiosity has ranged from a mild, easily ignored buzz in the back of my mind, to an almost obsessive desire, but I never became motivated to actually try anything.Well, that's not entirely true. When I was 17, I did talk an older friend, who was bisexual, into having a go at it. It was nervous, adolescent fumbling on my part, and I think he just really didn't find me to be his type, so nothing "came" of it (so to speak) for either of us. I'd had to have a good amount of. But another, perhaps less obvious group of images consisted of women wearing nylons. Any image of a woman in tights or stockings was likely to grab my attention. Photographs taken at some festivity or celebration or anniversary were a goldmine. It seemed to me then, as it seems to me now, that any woman could transform herself into an object of sexual desire by the simple means of applying nylon to her legs.In short, the pictures I preferred were those with no intentional sexual content. But, for now, the whole scene was just too much and I had a raging hard-on.“Get your ass off the bowl, turn around and bend over.”She was in position in a flash.“Spread your cheeks bitch.”Again, she had herself spread wide in an instant.I was out of control. She was dry and this was going to hurt like hell and all I could think about was how good it would be to hear her scream. And, that’s just what she did as I fisted my cock into that tight dry hole with as much force as I could deliver.