They were the kind who tucked their wedding bands into their pocket as they came through the door of the gay bars, trolling for a receptacle so they c...uld get off before they headed back to their nice houses in the suburbs. They were ashamed of themselves, and projected their shame onto me treating me as though what I was doing made me weak and disgraceful. Those first few times had scarred me more than I had ever admitted to anyone. It took me a long time to get over it. Id been horrified by. ?Aggghhhhhh!? The stark, slender wood rail jams between her tender flesh while crushing against her unprotected clit. Her toes twitch; arch downward, scrapping, dangling to find the floor. Still twisting squeezing, pinching her breasts, the clerk lifts, centers, bounces her once, twice, a third time onto the rough hewed sawhorse. The wood rail grinds painfully up against her puffy vulva, jams between the folds of her labia over and over until one of the men roughly grips, stretches,. More

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