But I'd beenforced to turn my back on nearly every one of them since real men didn'tdo those things. Men didn't play the flute, draw pictures, or dan...e.It suddenly struck me that I was trapped...trapped by expectations. I wastrapped by my dad's expectations of what it meant to be a man and my ownneed to fulfill them. I was trapped in my role as a brutish thug. Ihated who I was but I couldn't see a way out of these chains that boundme."I wish things could have been different," I thought. It was so intense! And when I finally fell asleep it was his cock that I dreamt about.I turned to face him just as he was going by the door to my room."Hi, Brad," I said in my softest, cheeriest, and most playful and seductive voice.He paused, looked in, and smiled when he saw me in my barely dressed bikini."Hi, Amber, what's up? Wow, you're looking good in that."I smiled back, and replied, "Really? Thanks. You're sweet." I beamed at him. "Can I ask you a question? Come in," I said, gesturing. More

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