A man old enough to be my father was kissing me, inspecting me and feeling me up."You shaved your cock," said Jim, stroking it up and down. "You look ...ike a little boy."He was patting my ass now, lightly spanking me. I felt my cock wave stiffly before me. "No," said Jim. "You're more like a girl, like a girl who needs a good fucking."I felt myself swooning in his arms. "I need to get you wet now, don't I?"Jim's fingers,covered with a greasy substance were now probing around my ass. I squirmed. I knew that if she unleashed those twin balloons from beneath her jersey that I’d better watch out or I’d have bruises on my face. I made a mental note to include hand signals in my safety regimen because if I were smothered by those breasts I would not be able to voice it. She caught my eye and we connected. As she rounded a turn I read the name on the back of her shirt — …busther. What? A typo on the jersey. Shouldn’t that have been buster? But the it hit me. More

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