“Will you fuck me?” you say and my facial expression is one of confusion as I wonder how I’m suppose to fuck a cock that just won’t stay hard!...You notice my confusion and you put me right. “I mean fuck my arse,” you add and now I start to understand. I smile because I’m an obliging girl but alarm bells are ringing quietly in my head and the words “He’s gay” present themselves to me in my minds eye in big black bold cartoon letters. “Okay” I say and actually I quite like the idea because I’ve. We didn't just 'make love', as my husband liked to call it, but we 'fucked'... like animals!There were so many firsts that I felt the child and my son the expert. But that would be false - he lost his virginity with his mother and I lost my own, in far more creative ways than my marriage bed would have ever considered.In short, my son Dan was the perfect man for me and I loved him, in all ways, without regret.Two years later and my son dated frequently and though we did not discuss it, I. Being an offensive lineman, even a good one, was not a particularly glamorous position. It was pretty much all grunt work - "down-in-the-trenches" kind of stuff. The type of football that won games by attrition, not by spectacular solo efforts. Hence, all the attention... all the acclaim; all the girls went to the players in the flashier positions, such as the quarterbacks and wide receivers and the like.Until today.Grinning his big, stupid grin, Biff flipped open the door to one of the unused. John laughed, “Well I am going to this club for the last 4 years now, and every visit has been uniquely fulfilling.”John and I discussed in detail about his experience. We also discussed the observer part of it. John told me in detail that those who want to enter the lifestyle and want to test waters can use this option and keep themselves a bit far from the real deal. I could now feel that my heart was pounding faster and my dick was getting a hard-on.“I can see it on your face that you are.