Pat told everyone that only her parents called her Patricia. So she was Pat to Sandy, and to James, the older gentleman she became friends with. Those...two she loved to chat with everyday. They were both writers too, of course. She had made it a habit to only make friends with fellow writers. That seemed safer somehow. Finally she had about thirty-five "friends" and only a few were what she would call real friends. These she trusted. Well, really, she trusted everyone on the site. Maybe that was. She enjoyed it for a moment and then suddenly pushed me away with full force and told me that she can’t cheat on her husband. I realised that her brain started controlling her desires. I had to hurry. This time I hugged her and kissed her on her lips but with one hand started touching her pussy over the nightie. She was trying to push me away. I kind of lifted her and carried her to their bed room. I put her on the bed pulled her nightie up and kissed her pussy over her panty. She shivered. I was pleased with my metamorphosis it was like a chrysalis turning into a butterfly, so much so, that my cock began to swell and I had to start to masturbate straight away.I lay down on my bed and stroked my cock and probed my asshole with a finger, something which I had just started to discover gave me heightened stimulation. Soon I was writhing in ecstasy, with my panties soaked in pre-cum. I reached for Lisa's vibrator and closed my eyes and began to suck on it, imagining it was real, but. “Hmmm… that’s funny, I could have sworn I’d left the door shut,” said Buz, as he arrived home. Entering his kitchen his eyes went immediately to the three bottles, all minus their tops and the opener discarded on the table. “Who’s been drinking my beer?!” He said, irately. “Ah well at least they’ve left the Hobgoblin.” Buz picked up the bottle of real ale and polished it off in a few deep slugs. “Aaaaaaaaaahhh! I needed that.” Apparently unconcerned that he had been broken into, Buz began to.