Finally he stood up. ?Well faggot, that was ok I suppose.? He said as he stood up moved past me. Somehow that made it even worse. This vile old man ha... used my mouth for his pleasure, debased and degraded me, humiliated me, forced me to suck his balls and cock and by the sound of it he barely enjoyed it. Again the tears started to flow. ?What are you crying for cum dump? Were you hoping I’d let you drink my spunk???N?n?.n.no Sir? I finally sobbed as I felt him stand directly behind me.?Ha? Not. Tonight, however, Iwas wearing my flared cream trousers, a teal-blue silk shirt, and my darkblue, 1970's, fitted velvet jacket. My boots sported chunky Cuban heelsand I had washed and blow-dried my longish hair to give it a fair amountof volume. Compared with what I wore in Manchester, it was very tame,but, for my family, it was very much a "new me". "Well, dea,r" saidMother nervously, "it is certainly an improvement on last year, but don'tyou think it is just a bit effeminate? We wouldn't want. More

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