If I could marry her thenshe could get residence."We could marry as a man and a woman," she said.It was true, but I could not face that. It seemed to...me to be wrong onso many levels."I could only marry you as a woman," I said. It could be done. In ourstate same sex marriage was legal, and post-operative transwomen couldbe registered as women. But it meant that surgery would be required.I confess that there was a part of me that would miss the special dildothat my fianc?e carried with her,. I watch as it goes down her throat, I can see the bulge as it fills her throat, I continue to abuse her tits, I pull and pinch her nipples, slap them, flick the nipples. She continues to moan and I can feel the vibration in my cock. I bend over and bite her nipples, my cock still buried in her throat. I stop my attention to her tits and just pump my cock in and out of her throat and she moans and squirms with the big dildo still buried in her cunt. I pull it from her gaping cunt, I slap her. Other than the airbrushed photos that he’s seen of beautiful topless and naked women in a men’s magazine, never has he seen breasts so shapely and perfectly symmetrical. Never has he felt breasts that were so firm and so densely heavy. The real deal and not some plastic surgeon’s conception of what a woman’s breasts should look and feel like, her breasts were all natural. She had breasts as naturally shapely as Jessica Simpson, Heidi Klum, or Scarlett Johansson. One of his favorite, sexual. After the sleep training session, I could probably assemble a laser rifle, but it would be like doing it with a book of instructions open next to me. I'm sure I wasn't ready to use one in combat. Two hours of sleep training didn't get me as ready to fight as the first five minutes of you teaching me how to use a rifle.In any case, I was exhausted when I finished, and it was way after midnight, so I went to sleep in the big bedroom downstairs. I woke up with my cock in someone's mouth. I slitted.