Even if my feet hadn't been asleep, he would have had no problem laying me down on my back so fast he knocked the breath out of me. Jake got his fing...rs under the hem of my shirt, and they lifted it up, over my face."There is it," Mike said. I felt his finger press the mole on my shoulder. "That's our skinny little faggot. This is the fag button. You press it and the fag comes on." Or you come on the fag," Seth said, and everyone laughed. Everyone but me.I struggled, the shirt stretched. B I am so disconnected from myself when I am allowing these men to use me sexually and I have no idea how to manage stress properly so I figured if I look at my sexual activity in black and white I will have more insight. That is just how I feel about it anyway. I feel as if I am spiraling out of control and I know rock bottom is soon to follow but I still cannot get off the train. It is a very helpless feeling. ‘Talk to me more about your feelings Chayne.’ Well I think that…… ‘I’m sorry to. . but as I said, times change.It was The Roaring Twenties and skirts were as short or shorter than today, except there was normally a fringe of beads which hung at least to mid-thigh. The most popular dances involved wild arm movements which bounced the dresses and caused the beads to swing wildly often times causing the short hems of the skirts to flap upward revealing the tops of stockings– and often more. Women who danced in such a manner were called “Flappers.” In private they were called a. I cup my hands over his buttocks, and glidemy lips, tongue, palate and throat over the glistening brown monster. "Oh, you suck it good, bitch." I nod, praying that he will erupt in mymouth and spare my hole from this massive thing. His cock probes down my throat, but Cesars's slaps and chastisements havetaught me to stifle my gags, and to never bare my teeth. I breathe, andmoan. He grips my skull and forces himself deeper, and I will my throatto yield. As he thrusts, I guide him, digging my.