That position parted his towel just enough for me to steal another peek of his manhood. A few silent minutes (and peeks) later, he blurted out, "You ...ike what you see, don't you."Damn! I went flush with embarrassment but tried to be nonchalant in my denial. "No, no. I'm sorry. I wasn't staring if that's what you're thinking." I nervously defended my roving eyes while shifting uncomfortably on the bench. I began to stammer, "I was just... I mean... Look. I'm not gay if that's what...". This went on for quite some time just flirting and nothing happening. Making me want him even more just not knowing it yet. But soon enough all this would change. It was a warm summer Saturday night when some friends and I decided to go to a show to see some local punk bands play. So I wore a short black cheetah print skirt with black steel toe boots and a tight black shirt that was printed with the words discharge on it (which is a band) that showed off a little clevage . When we got there we. “Please be familiar with each other. This is what you’ve dreamed of.” Sarah said. Our boxes contained lovely lingerie – mine included the first high heels that fit my size 13 feet. We were eager to get dressed and all restraint disappeared. In minutes, we were in heels stockings, panties, bras and garter belts in our favourite colours. I was wearing mostly red with white fishnets.We preened before the small mirror and loved what we saw. We looked great. A few touches and feels later, our. The spectacle of males being dispatched, having increased her appetite for cruelty toward the defeated gender, her eyes surveyed him with intent as Varnella and Derma explained the purpose for the corner’s visit once more. Veen gasped on the leash as the regal dominatrix touched his standing cock with her long cane.“I see your male is just as aroused as we, at seeing his own gender forfeit their lives for our pleasure ... it’s wonderful how their balls have them crave such delights, once taught.