It was all ‘ men this’ and ‘men that.’ Don’t get me wrong, men did their share of bad things but women were unwilling to take responsibilit... for anything. They always appeared as victims. If a woman killed her husband, somehow she was seen as the victim in all this. Geez. Women in America liked to hit their husbands and then call the cops on him and make phony accusations. The Courts always sided with the woman. I found all this extremely unfair. The Feminist movement started out wanting to. I even love the way you sleep.’ He reached out and caught a dollop of his cum that drooled from her crotch and offered it to her. She sucked it from his hand, her strange eyes on his – innocent blue and smoky brown, ice and fire. They looked at each other, knowing: No limits. There was nothing they could not ask, nothing they would not do for each other. ‘Sleep,’ she said then, wiping a stray drop of cum from her chin and licking it from her finger. ‘What a wonderful idea.’ He smiled and. "And I realized she thought I was worried about talking to her, trying to understand what she wanted and why. I felt a little flush of embarrassment, or maybe guilt, like I wasn't very strong at all and I was probably lucky she didn't know the real reason I'd gotten so excited suddenly. I doubted that my crazy fear of being her boyfriend would have impressed Jane very much. I felt my male pride bruised and I kicked myself a little for being such a crybaby. This was that girl part of me again, I. She took my hand and showed me around the downstairs, then smiled at me and said, "The bedrooms are upstairs." I drew her to me and wrapped my arms around her. She looked up and offered me her lips, and I gave her a long, slow kiss. She pressed her breasts against me, and I liked what I felt. I was well on my way to having a very stiff cock. We kissed a minute, then she broke the kiss and took my hand again, showing me up the stairs. Following her upstairs was marvelous, between her.