I am also conscious of men of all ages looking at me. Since I wear long skirts little do they realise I am without underwear and wet and aroused so th...y seem to dismiss me as potentially exciting unless my pert nipples cause stares.Sometimes on a train I notice an older man with bulge and the classic closing his eyes and just peeping at me occasionally. If the train is not too busy I tend to smile and just stare at his cock. Sometimes this produces a smile back! I like to replay these. How did I become so fearful? I sit beside her and begin to rub the soft smooth skin of her back. “Calm down, it all will be fine.I am taking pleasure from the touch. What a fake I am. I am taking pleasure from my sacrificial lamb! I do not think I could feel any worse. Sara sighs and puts her head on the pillow. This is so wrong she accepts my words of cowardice as if they were true. My guilt is a dry hard knot inside me.Not long after she falls asleep.I watch her sleep. She looks so lovely . .. She turned many a male head as she made her way across the courtyard toward the sixteen-story building in which Brent worked. Dani was quite a looker; she was a twenty-year-old college coed with a gorgeous fair complexion, long, flowing blonde hair and expressive blue eyes. Five-foot- six with a figure to die for, she had on a pink top and low-riding, hip- hugging white pants, which left a substantial swath of midriff exposed.Brent was twelve years her senior, and already quite successful in. She kept me from flying off into space. She helped me to deal with the strangeness of this new feeling I had acquired -- on the field -- when I was at the plate. It was a feeling that I had never experienced, before I'd gotten my face broken by a fastball.It still didn't feel like fear. I didn't feel like I was bailing out on the pitches, or flinching. But something was different, and, whatever it was, Sandy seemed to be the only antidote. When she was nearby, when I could think about her, back.