Peter was forty then and had just come out of the army. He was married, but had gained a taste for ladyboys in the Far East. He was smart and pleasant...and just the sort I liked. He told me he was married so had to be discreet, even better.Back in my flat he was on me in a trice. He couldn't wait to get his mouth around my cock, not even bothering to strip me. Peter's urgency was unreal, he wanted spunk and he wanted it fast. He had my cock out of my trousers dropped to his knees and sucked. Not. It buffeted them, pounding with the force of striking hammers, until every muscle and tendon and sinew strained against the wind just to take the next solitary step. But Rael would not yield. The storm blew clusters of freezing ice. The small, jagged shards smashed into them, pricking, piercing little needles of purest cold that lance right through the heavy cover of their bundles of clothes. Like a hail of arrows the ice came, riding the fierce winds, formed so hard and thick that they had to. I winched at the testicular scraping but still tried for dignity in covering up. My actions had been indefensibly on show. Her well-placed foot stopped me pulling my trousers up, and Mother stood leering over me, her wetness still falling onto me. She studied my cock with demonic red scheming eyes.She then brought her other foot over and pinned me down by my chest. I shuddered under her in a neurotic ball and tried to cover my erection.I looked up at her, a picture of a naked Amazonian woman. My pants and shorts are quickly pulled down and I wonder what we are going to do about my bra and shirt. I don't wonder long before I feel a strange tug and hearing a cutting noise. I quickly realize that you are cutting off my shirt and bra with your hunting knife. "Well I hope you know that I will be wearing your shirt home" I think to myself. Any worry about what I will wear home though is quickly dissolved when I feel you nibbling my nipples. I know it's you because nobody does them.