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We had a nice curry with rice, popadoms and a cucumber ‘raita’ (which is yogurt with finely sliced cucumber), one of my favourite indian dishes. Occasionally, in the past, mom and dad would have some wine with dinner and offer me some if I wanted. We all had a glass this evening too, and mom and dad chatted away as normal like they had always done. It still felt a little odd, though. You couldn’t blame me feeling that way. Just a day or so ago, we all had sex together for the first time, and dad was ok with me doing it in front of him with mom! And mom – she was so hot too! It all seemed a little bizarre, but a real turn on too. My life a few days ago seemed a long distant dream.The wine helped to relax us all. During dinner both mom and dad never mentioned anything about what me might do later. But my dick had been stirring thinking about it. And occasionally mom gave me a wink and a smile, probably to reassure me everything was ok. She also did once rub her foot up and down my calf. “OH yeah, baby, ” I moaned as he ground his mouth onto my clitty, “pull those panties down just enough to get your lips on my pussy stick.”Again, he reached for my waistband and I slapped his eager hand again,“I said no, goddammit.”The look in his eyes was one of confusion, frustration, and eros mixed. The look of bewilderment on his face was precious. I knew he was down for anything, so I decided to push the humiliation even further“Use your teeth to pull it down. My god you are a useless sissy, aren’t you?”“I’m not a sissy,” he snapped.“Let me tell you something sugar, if you are here in my kitchen, on your knees trying to suck my tranny cock…That sounds to me like you are a fucking sissy, baby.”His eyes were trained upon me with a look of defiance as I interlaced my fingers behind his head and pulled it to me, rubbing my wet lace-covered clitty over his lips. His insolent stare quickly faded into lust as he began nipping and trying to pull my panties down with his teeth.“Ooh yeah.
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Jonathan’s Gym turned out to be located in an upmarket part of New York on the east side of Central Park at the same street level as my apartment on the much less desirable, west side of the park. Jonathan, whoever he was, was looking for a temporary trainer for his gym to replace one of his regular guys who had sustained a knee injury and would be out of action for about two months. It was only a temporary post, but which, if I were successful in getting the job, would ease the pressure on my finances for a while and give me breathing space to find something more permanent. Also, I felt that this was an ideal job for me as you will remember that I was a keen gymnast and needed a place where I could work out myself a few times each week. So, I called Jonathan’s Gym, and talked to the owner, Jonathan, himself, telling him about my athletic prowess and so forth. Well, the upshot was that he asked me to come along to the gym straight away so that he could see me in person. For those of.

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