It’s a question of me meeting a very, very specific physical, psychological, and emotional need. And THAT is your struggle.”“Why do you think th...t?”“You didn’t have feelings of revulsion, or at least you didn’t express any, with regard to fellatio or intercourse, and you didn’t have a panic attack, or whatever, at the thought. Sure, you felt uneasy, nervous, and maybe a bit scared, but that’s not really a source of concern. I think you COULD have sex with me again, even long-term. The question. It was well, though, that the miniskirt was in fashion, as the two had lovely legs but of different sorts. Arlene and Shelley’s thighs were womanly but visibly muscled, while I tended to call those of Greta, Vivian, Margaret, and Terry to be slim, perfectly tapering marble sculptures. Lois’ were strong but not as muscled as were Arlene’s. As a man attracted more to legs than to breasts, I was in hog heaven.Both wore short-skirted designer-grade suits, Arlene in red and Greta in gray. They were. My eyes were on her the whole time as she stood there, sipping her coffee, in the sunlight. I was hard enough to split diamonds. She uncrossed and crossed her legs slowly while I ate, a little grin on her face, her big jugs jiggling each time she moved.I got up, sporting a huge boner, and grabbed my bag to leave."Don't forget to kiss your mother goodbye," she said.I haven't done that for at least five years. She didn't move as I approached her and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. She moved her. He knew she would find him again so clearly he was notupset or embarrassed about the previous week; he must want more.She knew that she should resist, but instinctively she knew that her vagina wasalready moistening itself in anticipation.She turned away from his naked body and went to empty the bin.There was a piece of paper carefully laidon top that she picked up and read:Miss,You are like an angel from heaven come to answer my prayers.I know you may not do the same again, but you should at.