Than he dropped his cock, and slipped his hand up my shirt. He started touching my nipples, and when they became erect he began rolling, flicking and ...ulling on them a bit with his fingers. Something happened, and I wanted the kiss, I met his mouth to his, a little more eager than I would care to admit, and let him in, but still unsure about my role. After a few moments he broke off the kiss."Touch your tongue to mine." Than went back to kissing me again. Our tongues touched and petted each. I realized he was the barrier between the society of some pervert hungry men who saw women as nothing but sex objects and me.After his death, people crossed their lines many times. They came into my house uninvited, would help me carry my bag. I rub their hands on my ass and my big boobs. The teenage boys were the worst.I was groped and spanked in crowded places with catcalling and wolf-whistling. The workplace was not safe either. I was offered to have sex on the couch to get promoted. But it. I started as a part time sales girl. With the help of looks and experience flirting I soon became the best sales girl, eventually becoming full time. But the flirting and occasional one night stands weren't enough. I secretly started working as a stripper at night. It wasn't at a regular strip club or gentleman's club. It was at a bar. I would walk around in a bikini offering lap dances to the people that would come in for a drink. I enjoyed the thrill of meeting strange (horny) men, letting. Because Pamela had agreed to finance laser hairremoval when we first moved, there wasn't any hair left on my face toworry about, and the operators were quite complimentary about mycomplexion. I had used whatever Pamela did and her skin was radiant.That, of course didn't stop them from giving me about a dozen skinproducts that "you must use every day," some in the morning some at night,just as the instruction booklet detailed. When they worked on my face, itwas as if a team of fluttery little.