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You will be dressed feminine. We will fuck and you will feel like a woman receiving my love." What? Seriously, I thought? But I need release NOW. I fluttered my eyes and said yes. I put my hotel and room number in his phone as he instructed. He pulled me close, slipping his strong finger against my plump asshole and pushing it inside of me dry, under my pants. He pulled it out and gave it a suck like a lollipop, then disappeared.The next morning i woke up and realized I had to prepare. I called my office and told them I was sick -- food poisoning. Then I made a checklist. First, I went to the local d**g store and got some quality enema equipment -- figured I needed to be clean for him. Then I spent an hour meticulously shaving my cock, leaving a soft manicured patch just above my cock. Then I want to the nicest lingerie shop in Zurich near the main train station and picked out a gorgeous set of sky blue stay up stockings, yellow sheer panties and I bra to match --. It went in and out of my pussy, or so I imagined. At first I only masturbated thinking about a generic dick. It wasn’t Tommy’s dick. That would be gross. My own brother? But eventually his image started involuntarily entering into my fantasy sex. It started slowly, but in time he was there every time. It wasn’t a hairbrush and it wasn’t just any dick. It was Tommy’s dick and it was extra exciting. If I had a boyfriend back then, I would have ripped his clothes off and fucked him cowgirl style every time I felt like that. I didn’t have a boyfriend though, and my sexy urges were driving me crazy. One evening Dad was out with his motorcycle buddies and Tommy and I were alone. Tommy sat next to me on the old coach in the basement to watch TV and said, nonchalantly, “You know I can hear you too.” I was startled and speechless. I looked at him and he was clearly enjoying my embarrassment, just as I had enjoyed his when mentioning the bed tapping noises. Then he really threw me, “I think.
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In the middle of the day. On my way home at night. He told me that was all he was going to do to me. I found myself thinking of it, obsessing about it. During waking hours, his cock was up my ass, or it just had been or it soon would be again. I felt myself being stretched, becoming permanently enlarged. I found myself acutely sensitive as I sat down. I found myself thinking of my asshole as I walked along a corridor, an unseeing eye, wondering if his come was draining out, staining my skirt. Or blood. I started wearing inserts in my panties. One morning I awoke before dawn from dreaming about a cock up my ass and rolled over and pushed the covers from Winston, who was sleeping naked as always. He was lying on his stomach, and without intention, I found myself crouched above him, touching him at just three points: the tip of my tongue on the back of his neck, the tips of my nipples against his shoulders. Slowly I traced my way downward. He started to stir and roll over. I touched him.

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