There was a freedomand yes a sexual aspect to it.Growing up I was not particularly interested in the standard and overtmacho role nor was I effeminate... I stood in the middle somewhere.Growing up in the 1960's gender roles were massively enforced andstifling; the fear of being outed was palpable. Men's clothing was, andis, purpose driven, rough, confining and restrictive in all aspects; theform and function of it was strictly enforced as though it was auniform. Women's clothing on the other hand. His cock was swollen and pulsating, the girls were lavishing it with adoration and idolatrous worship, preparing it for mothers needy attention, and as I stood and eased my knickers over my black stockings, the smile on their beautiful faces, made me proud as I took my first step towards my meaty pillar of sexual gratification.'Spit on his cock darling' and my eldest girl engulfed its head within her pink lips, and as I neared I could see her pink tongue encircled his glans in rapid revolutions. More

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