I squirmed. I tried to edit. "I don't know... I guess... one every day?Yeah. I could do one every day."I thought that was impressive. They jotted it d...wn in their notes. Theirfaces showed no expression."You know the consequences of this procedure, right?"I did not like the sound of that."Uh... yeah, I think so." You're not a homosexual, clearly, so that option is not available. Butyou could opt for castration. Once gelded, you'd be able to continue yourcurrent life as it is. If you want, that. The playful flash of her eyes, the look of being caught out in doing something naughty. Her lips squeezing, her hands massaging my swelling sac, as she drew my shaft deeper into her mouth. My hands gently guiding her head around me, taking her hair in my hands as her head bobbed back and forth on me. She alternated from swallowing my cock into her mouth, to lifting it with her hand, and peppering my shaft and balls with kisses and licks. My head rolled back in pure pleasure. She felt the urge. There cleintele were from all walks of life - doctors, ex-cons, mailmen, janitors, lawyers, d**g dealers, factory workers, cops, and so on. Many of the customers were married; most had girlfriends at least. A substantial amount had both a wife and a side chick. It was the last Thursday of the month. This meant it was amateur night. Sam's 23 year-old son had come up with the idea. He set up a website were ladies could submit a picture and be selected to serve as temporary hostesses. If they were. I’ve just never gotten that kind of treatment from a guy. Not clothed and certainly not naked!I got up after I finished my omelet and poured us another cup of coffee. He never even looked at me. He didn’t seem concerned that I might escape. But what’s even stranger is that I’m not trying to escape. I looked at the front door in the foyer when I came by it on the way to the kitchen. The door is open and the storm door didn’t appear to be locked. Yet I didn’t even think about escaping! For the.