"His was an arrogant, grotesque soul, my darling. They are the best kind." She cuddled happily to him.He lingered with her, looking around the room, s...aring out the window. He tasted the wine. She watched his every move with adoring eyes. Finally, he returned to the foot of the bed, and stared at her, and she began writhing to his heated gaze. "Fuck me again, Arkan. Take me, master." He stood watching as she tried to lure him, her hand rubbing her puffy cunt, the other kneading her full. This just seemed tobring me closer to learning more about myself.When I met a well-dressed man named John on a September Friday Night atJacques (a Boston Trans Nightclub) he generously bought me severaldrinks. John was very a very friendly guy who seemed rather normal thoughhe was much older than I. For some reason I found myself allowing myselfto be rather charmed by him. The many drinks he bought me had me quitetipsy and I felt more comfortable with him than most men I had ever met.He was. And the stares, the disbelieving stares. The shape and curvature of her bosom suggested that the unlikely mammaries were real, but that couldn't be possible could it? Surely no woman alive could have ripe melons so vast, healthy and plump; not without extensive plastic surgery. But No, her voluminous endowments moved with too much natural softness to be bought from a surgeon. It was a bustiness that people would assume could not be humanly possible. And they'd be right. Ah! Yes! Heading. " I wentto the door and opened it, "Well" said Julie, "Don't we look smart, andare you ready to go." I replied, "Yes thank you." "And are you lookingforward to it as well," she said. I just smiled.The first shop we went to was the hairdressers where I had my hairtrimmed and made look more girlish, we both had are nails done minebright red to match my toe nails, I must admit I quite liked beingpampered. The second shop was Julie's favourite undies shop, where I wastold to pick out my.