I bring you to them and set you down on the ground. I grab the rope and tie your hand behind your back and set you in the chair. I walk behind you and...reach around you. I gab your breast and say "You have such nice firm tits. I'm going to love playing with them. I run my hands farther down your body and cup your pussy through your pants. I start to rub your pussy and I feel you start to squirm again.“What does this have to do with the game!” you yell as you try to squirm back and forth still. . I was dead wrongabout you. I was stupid. There! I've said it... I've cleared the air...I feel much better having said it, like I've been relieved of animpossible burden, a millstone around my neck, a deadbeat, an incubus onmy chest. Everybody always says looks are superficial and count fornothing. 'Don't judge a book by its cover' and all that pious bullshitpeople prattle on about... But these people never have to walk arm-in-arm down the street with someone they're ashamed of, someone. I helped you up the stairs, and put you on my couch. Even tho we were both pretty buzzed, you asked if I had anything else, and I poured us a couple cognac's. After a while, I asked you if you knew I had a crush on you growing up. You looked a little surprised, but asked me to tell you about it. I explained how I would try to peep in your door, and how sexy I thought you were. I even admitted that after you left I stole a pair of your dirty panties so I wouldn't forget anything about you.After. Almost 3 months later 2 gardeners that my partner had hired were working outside cleaning up the mess from a wild storm that had recently passed through the area. They were friends of my partner and had commented many times that if they ever got the opportunity to fuck me they would jump at it. Neither of them were my type so whenever they were in the garden l was always wary and made myself scarce. I heard about some of the happenings at their private parties and didn’t intend to become one.