Certainly you are at work'.'You cheeky bastard' she said.'Sorry,but thats the impression you give over.I find you attractive but i always said i could...'t imagine fucking a miserable bitch like you.But the way you are now,i would definitely be keen to fuck you'.'You are a cheeky bastard,aren't you.You call me a miserable bitch,then say you wouldn't mind fucking me.You think i would let you fuck me after all that'.Before i could answer we arrived at her apartment.As she went to get out,she. "She paused and looked at him. He was handsome, much younger than her. "Maybe so. How old are you?" Twenty-one." Oh, my God."*It was a very small house with two very small bedrooms, and they were both occupied by couples. Brad shook the bed covers off one sleeping couple. "Get up, you slugs. I have a lady here who needs the bathroom."The girl sat up, covering her breasts with a sheet. She looked sleepily at Maggie. "You look like my mother," she said. Then she covered her mouth and giggled,. Even now, at twenty-one, I hate the word pussy. I hate the word cock. I feel repulsed at vulgarity. I don't even know why. It makes me talking dirty to my boyfriend as he fucks me needlessly grueling as I make sweet sounding synonyms of body parts and obscene actions –– I'm okay with fuck, it has enough different uses that it seems innocuous. But other than that, I simply can't move past that conditioning from my childhood. I was raised that ladies don't say such things. So every time I had. I felt content with the possibility that my climax would come through my own self-release, only wishing that it may have come in between the heated thighs of the two lovers before me. Some how one of the ladies beholds in a gaze the marvelous throbbing instrument being presented before the silent audience of the two passionate lovers. They slowly emerge from their own passion and move slowly and mercilessly towards me, telling me that I was not to touch them. This only makes my engorged limb.