’36. I grew up here, in the suburbs.’ ‘But your accent isn’t from here.’ ‘Very observant Ms Jensen. My family moved here from Portland whe... I was 12. I never lost my accent.’ Much to my annoyance, Dan removed his hand from between my legs. He tapped his chin with the same finger he had inside me, a mock display of hard thinking. When he lifted two fingers to his mouth and sucked them, I nearly died. He put his hand back in its rightful place between my thighs and gently pushed his two fingers. I was going over what I had done and what I was going to do. To mysurprise I was getting hard. I was telling myself I was not gay butremembering how Jack's cock felt and what it was like to have him cum inmy mouth made me start to breathe heavily. I made myself stop thinkingabout it. I went back to my room and took a shower. My ass was sore andthe warm water felt good. I started rubbing my ass trying to ease thepain. The more I rubbed the hornier I was getting. I started pushing myfingers in. “Go on John, show them.” She prodded at him. “Show them what a sissy boy you are.” Show them what you’re wearing.”“I can’t.” replied John, his face flushing.“Go on, it’s about time people knew what you’re really like and it’s best to show them now. If you don’t I’ll take the down.”John slid his chair back and it scrapped across the floor, making a noise that attracts everyone. With the pub looking on, Dee and I included, John now stood to the side of the table. He reached for his belt and. An elk stood proud, surveying the taiga as it erupted in the brilliant colours of the brief Spring. Benin had no doubt who the artist was. Such a gift would never have occurred to John.Pavel breezed in trying to pretend that it was business as usual. He muttered and smiled in his usual way then proceeded to his desk and picked up the day files. Benin looked on amused as he pretended to read the prisoner muster. He held it up in front of his face like a schoolboy trying to avoid the teacher's.