In the background of this, my mind is telling them to fuck off. So, to recap, I am in reality quite easy to please, I love being used, I love to orgas..., but it’s not as important to me as men like to believe. I love a good hard using, but I hate men who boast about sex as if they think somehow that they are some sort of Olympic God, which they are not.Now I’m sure some of you readers will not be happy to hear your prowess being dissed, but the truth is guys, some of you are just not satisfying. Christmas in Branson was special. Beth Ann and Brian came up for the week. Randy sent his regrets. Rebecca came home and tried mightily to fit in and enjoy the holiday. Her mother flew off to Acapulco with some 'friends, ' leaving her to fend for herself while frightened, depressed, and angry.Brian flew he and Beth Ann to town, which might be part of Randy's reluctance to join them, but I suspected when the plane landed that there was trouble in paradise. That hunch was confirmed when Beth Ann. Nancy had purchased three bikinis and, as usual, turned numerous heads much to the dissatisfaction of wives and girlfriends. In a couple of days we had a shell collection and spent sightseeing time on the island and the Florida mainland. It was relaxing and enjoyable for both of us. One evening, as we sat on our hotel balcony, I decided to go out for a bottle of wine. Nancy relaxed in a lounge chair, wearing white cotton shorts and a light-yellow pullover, She looked radiant, as usual. I. Another half hour or so passed. We had another drink and another dance when my husband took my hand and said come with me. He took me down some dark stairs and into a small room with two doors. He took his tie off and put it on me as a blindfold. I asked him what he was up to and he said he had a special treat for me. I heard the door squeak as he opened it, he took my hand and pulled me forward. We soon came to a stop and he told me to sit, he guided me onto a lightly padded table. He gently.