Talking, trying to make sense as I spoke. It wasn't working. He said, really quietly, "I'm so sick of being this."He looked up at me. He wasn't crying...anymore. He was wet though. Soaked. His hair was plastered to his head, and he still looked beautiful; for some reason, he reminded me of one of those 'Precious Moments' figurines."Now you're talking about your self. All anybody fucking cares about is themselves. Even me, especially me. Me! This is me! I'm a boy in a dress, this concept that's. Chris has always made it plain that he would love to fuck my wife Lorraine, at first I thought he was just fooling around but since he has been on his own he has became more forward, ringing her on her mobile and attempting to meet her,without me, he sent her a E MAIL saying he needed her opinion on redecorating his bedroom but to visit without me as I would only be bored.Well ,I knew he fancied her but I did not expect him to betray our friendship this waywe have been mates 30 yrs and are like. How do I handle this all?”The silence told me that Danielle was processing that instead of tying herself in knots about what had happened. That would move the ball ahead as far as getting Uncle off of my back. My pilot could have been a crossdressing, alcoholic, peeping Tom who suffered from psoriasis as far as I knew. I didn’t want to cause any problems for anyone, so I stayed in the restroom just off the pilots lounge and let things happen without me.It had to be the stress and nervous energy. He whimpered and stroked my hair. Then he spurted three or four wads of jizz. "Thanks, sweetcakes. You serve the best meals." I quipped and he groaned.Since he was on his back again. I spread his legs and began licking his nuts and asshole. His hole was red and puffy - like it had been used non-stop for four hours or so. It was stretched out, but I knew that after another few minutes it would constrict again.Oddly - or maybe sickly - I was beginning to recognize the boys from their assholes..