He went into the master bedroom of his double-wide mobile home that sat just outside of the city limits. Banjo put on a pair of pink lace boyshort pan...ies. Afterwards, he lit a vanilla-scented in each room of his home. The football players had used him the previous weekend. And, it was a blast. The thirty-five-year-old white femme dude was excited. His visitors were scheduled to arrive in an hour. He had three cases of beer in the fridge. He had ordered a seventy chicken tenders for his guests.. He admitted that he wasn’t as good as the full-time first baseman but was as good or better than the bench player. He thought I had a better chance though admitted that the third baseman currently playing was good. However, he thought I was better. I told him that I was trying not to have any expectations about my baseball future. I wanted to play major league but admitted that it wasn’t as important as it had been before coming to the Sky Sox. Priorities in my life had changed. Claudette. The wise old leader of the rock-throwing tribe thought about this loss for some time before pronouncing with slow grunts that they must destroy the fish-eaters and take all their women that were much-needed for making new additions to the tribe and allowing the men to each have a between the legs bed partner for nocturnal duty.The danger in such a development was that the entire tribe would be exposed to complete annihilation if their raid was a failure and they lost additional fighting men in. „Er drückte mich grob gegen den Küchentisch und zerrte mein Kleid über die Schultern. Es riss leicht ein und legte meine Brüste frei. Das schien ihm zu gefallen, denn sofort griff er nach diesen und drückte diese grob.“„Wurde sie dabei hart?“, hauchte der Priester durch das Gitter des Beichtstuhls.„Was?“, fragte sie unwissend.„Deine Brustwarzen! Wurden deine Nippel dabei hart?“„Ich, ich weiß nicht“, stammelte sie.„Ja oder nein, und wage es ja nicht zu lügen.“„Ich weiß es nicht!“, schluchzte.