Because my dick wasn’t working, the rest of me was more alert to sensations. Every stroke on my lick, kiss on my lips, ever grab by her on my ass wa... more intense. As the fondling felt so good, I felt more, not less, masculine because I had a prosthetic penis. MaryBeth was so feminine, so pretty, yet so wanton. Tonight she made it clear she was going to get satisfaction. Satisfaction she had desired for some time. (In one email, she had told she was disappointed -- and ever so frustrated --. It was marked ‘Private Study Room’ and on the door handle hung a print sign that read ‘VACANT.’ *** They slipped into the room, turning the sign to ‘OCCUPIED’ as they did. The room was slightly larger then a dorm and just as Spartan. A table dominated the center of the room, along with a small sofa and love seat in one corner and a bookshelf along the wall. In the far corner was a bed, made up with plain, though apparently clean white sheets. As the door clicked closed behind then Michael. I had been on three dates with women who seemed normal while emailing but turned out to be nothing like their profiles, or their pictures, made them out to be. Maybe it was the letter she sent me; she seemed to have actually read my profile, and in her words, 'thought we might be a good match, and that we could have some fun together'... Or maybe it was the fact that her profile was actually interesting, showing that we had a lot in common, her pictures letting me know that she worked with. What was wrong with him?His day at school reflected his confusion. Instead of history he walked into his math room. Mrs. Plachette eyed him drearily."Chuck Hughes, I didn't expect you until next hour. Is there some special reason you visit me early?"Laughter fluttered around the room."Fuck." Was all he said and left.He stumbled into Susie, the pretty student who had inspired his libido originally. She was an innocent dish, tall with long, straight brown hair, curves that would fit an Italian.