It's up to you. I'd like to talk to you about it."Gayle frowned and tried to suss out some hidden motive in my statement."Are you serious?" She asked....I swear," I said, hand on heart. "I think I can understand how youfeel. Or maybe how you think. I don't want to walk out on you justbecause you're honest. I respect that in my friends. The only differencebetween now and an hour ago is that I know a little bit more about you.And it doesn't make that much difference to me."Gayle shook her head. "It. Also, we have amazing sex.Every morning I wake up and share my dreams with him, and then we make love. Then he shares his dreams with me, and we make love again. After our day at work, we go home, and we talk about our day, and make love. After dinner we sit on the couch, hugging, watching a movie or reading something, and sometimes we make love.We never get bored.We both have a hobby - writing novels.We met three years ago when he wrote me an email by mistake. After a few lines of that email,. This brought the kinkiness out of me as I woumd get clothes pins, clamping them to my nipples, lay back and stroke my cock, imagining that I was a woman who was caught pleasuring herself by a man who had broken in and she was forced to pleasure him and give him my "pussy".That was my "go to" fantasy while wearing pantyhose. Now every chance I got I'd slip on the pantyhose clamp on the clothes pins and check myself out in the mirror. After admiring how sexy I thought I looked I'd lay down and. Now that Greg had finally undergone this transformation, he fit in a bit better. However, he grew very rapidly over the summer, almost abnormally fast, shooting up more than a couple of inches in terms of height and...well, "down there." What Greg was most alarmed about however, was the explosion of his libido. He had, of course, previously found women to be easy on the eyes, but now he could barely see an attractive one without devouring her visually and subsequently becoming aroused --.