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He felt the carpet under his little toes and the jiggle of his breasts. They tingled ever so much. As he walked he couldn't keep the feminine sway out of his hips. He could feel his round butt wiggle as he walked and knew that Liz had to have had a hard-on. "So is this what Darryl always got when I walked past him?" Liz pondered to herself. The shorts on her male body seemed to be TOO small for the tenting erection in her pants. Darryl got to the bed and lied down. His breasts seemed to stand. This time I was surprised when her eyebrow raised, and we shook hands. "You have a great imagination?" It was more of a question than a statement.Accompanied by a few forward comments and more than a single snicker I responded, "Thank you. The research is the best!" I meant it, but sadly, I was mostly just using common male bravado, which we all knew, except perhaps naive Buster, who laughed loudest. "And why had you never told me that?" I asked with a playful, snide voice."Well, been busy...". She had become such a fucking tease even with her mother around, my bleeding wife. Every day it was something else with her: cuddling on the couch and resting her tits on my arm, asking me to rub her calves after a long day, leaving the door open while she showered, sneaking touches of my cock whenever she could. I would feel my cock stirring in my pants thinking about those legs wrapped around my head, my tongue buried in her pussy as she had my hair in her hands..."Daddy?" Yes, Megan?" Her. "Strip slut."Sharon looked at the three men, then at the gun, she realised her options where limited. She removed her university polo shirt, her pride and joy, then slowly unbuttoned her jeans sliding them down her slightly round, but long legs. She had always been self-concious when it came to her weight, despite people saying she was curvy rather than big."All of your fucking clothes," the man with the gun said, firing a shot into the air. Sharon reached around, shaking, tears streaming.
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