She was still wearing her skintight one-piece suit with a colorful sarong wrapped around her hips. I had on my swimming shorts and an old t-shirt with...the arms cut off. We both wore flip-flops. I was also wearing my industrial strength jock strap because I knew my big ram was going to get exited; it always did at the pool. It had a big enough pouch for a baseball cup so there was plenty of room for my massive root.So we sat side-by-side in the shade at an old table and chatted and ate and drank. He also rolled from his heels to his soles and back again.The man smiled.But it was a poor and transparent diversion from his predatory eyes. Deep inside the old Willow felt repulsed by him. But who listened to the old, nagging Willow anymore? Quite a more attractive Willow told her that she should have a deep loyalty for the man.He deserved her gratitude for the glorious service he did to women. He gave them life and joy. He made them beautiful and wanted.He made them happy.Willow looked. More

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