Much as he tried to restore some semblance of masculinity, tottering inthe unfamiliar heeled slippers towards his bedroom made this impossibleand he a...most tripped as his feet got caught in his overlong andextremely wide satin pyjama pants causing him to stumble slightly. Heknew the only way to negotiate the way to his destination was to liftthe material of the pants and dressing gown in the effeminate way he wasshown by Greta and as he reluctantly did so allowing him to self-consciously mince. Then some lesbian porn. Then group sex. And on and on it went. And then I got to my biggest fetish, the one I tried to hold out on. The one I never shared with the women I dated……strap-on sex. No, not girls using strap-ons on each other. Girls strapping-on guys. I don’t know why, but from the very first time I stumbled upon one of these videos, I was hooked, and as I watched more of these videos, I experimented a little by myself. Trying a finger here. A second finger there. Then a vibrator.. It wassoon time for her to get ready for work as she extracted herself fromthe insistent arms of her husband. She knew what he wanted, but she wasdetermined to save herself for her new lovers despite the wantonfeelings she was already feeling. She made her way upstairs and climbedback into her new summer outfit, smiling to herself as she could alreadysee her nipples poking out through the material. It was going to be agood night!She kissed her husband good bye and let him play with her nipples. Davenport? You said before you thought they felt more like something else, before the last one hit."Mr. Davenport didn't answer."Mr. Davenport?"Still no answer. Melissa pressed her face against the screen, looking down. Mr. Davenport was no longer in the front yard; in fact, he was nowhere to be seen at all. Neither was anyone else, she realized, and how weird was that? The neighborhood should be just teeming with people, inspecting the damage, talking about it excitedly, waiting for police to.