It wasn’t the act that was turning me on, it was the rawness, the openness of pain and pleasure or whatever crazy fucked up thoughts I was having hi...h as hell getting pounded by some random black guy like in all the porn I’ve watched, bent over sticking my ass out like some whimpy emo k**. Whatever it looked like, I knew it didnt look pleasant, hot, pretty. Fucking disgusting, nasty, sickening, wrong, most people would probably gag watching a grown working professional suddenly bending over and. Hed been my dads best friend in high-school, they were roommates in college and what I do remember was that he was always at our house, before he died. That was the only time I saw my father loose control, when he got the call about Robbies accident. Greta ended-up taking me into her room for the night, something shed never done before and something shes never done since. I remember siting there, listening to my father sobbing and howling, it was terrifying. After a moment of internal. More

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