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This story contains a small amount of crude language and briefly depicts one or two sexual situations. If such things offend you, please go no further. If the concept of two people of the same sex sharing a relationship upsets you, then please don't read this story. The Bard of Avon By Jane Howard First Ted got divorced and then I got divorced. Neither one of us could handle the stresses and demands of marriage. Our wives both felt that we were irresponsible and too inattentive to their needs. They were also jealous that Ted and I were spending most of our time with each other instead of them. In fact, my wife Deborah, her voice dripping with venom, had told me during the last of our numerous arguments about what was wrong with our relationship that I should have married Ted and not her. My response was that if she wasn't such a castrating bitch, she would have gotten all my time, but since she was, I stayed out late as a simple act of self-preservation. Well, that did it for her. She promptly threw my clothes out of the bedroom window and the next day she changed the locks. The first thing I did was to call Ted and tell him what happened. He asked me if I had anywhere to stay, and since I didn't he told me to bring my stuff over to his place and said that I could live there until I figured out my next move. As I drove out to Long Island, I thought about my life. The traffic on the Expressway was horrible so I had a lot of time to mull things over. The first conclusion I reached was that as painful as it was, I was happy that my relationship with Deborah was over. We had gotten together when we were very young, and both of us had changed so much over the three years of our marriage that had we met now instead of then, the first few dates would have convinced us that we had nothing in common. And that would have been the end of it. I was twenty-two. It was hardly the end of the world. I had plenty of time to start my life over again. As the lane of cars I was in crawled over the line into Nassau County, I began to feel a swell of gratitude that I had Ted for a friend. He was a rarity. Loyal, strong, patient, understanding, a good listener and adviser, he had taken me under his wing when I first joined the corporation. He was several years old than I was, and although still young himself already a unit manager. I liked him right away. He was funny and he was fair. He saw threw all the bullshit of corporate life, but he knew how to work the system. Within a few weeks of starting to work for him, we got into the habit of staying late and then going to a bar he liked near the office for a few beers before heading home. At first, we only stayed for an hour, or even less sometimes. But as we came to know each other better, it got harder to leave that bar, and we started staying out several hours every night. There was just so much to learn from him about work and life and all kinds of subjects. Within a few months we were bosom buddies. Eventually, we got into the habit of meeting on weekends, too. And perhaps it was the alcohol, or the intensity of our personalities, but a certain (and I use this word cautiously) "passion" began to filter into our discussions. I guess both of us were pretty emotional under the surface. We cared about many of the same things so much, that as time went on we became very, very honest with each other about topics that a boss with career ambitions would ordinarily never discuss with a subordinate. Even topics like our sex lives with our wives, God's true gender, and the safest way to shave the hair off our balls (which we both liked to do) were not taboo. Mostly though, Ted talked and I listened. I noticed that I liked looking at him when he was in the middle of one of his monologues. Don't get me wrong, I was listening to everything he had to say. But I used to watch him, too. He was very tall. He had a ruddy complexion, a strong profile and the bluest eyes. He had been a linebacker in college, and he still had the physique of an athlete although he admitted that he hadn't worked out since he got his degree. He seemed to me to be the quintessence of masculinity. In contrast, I was rather short for a man and I was slightly built and pale. My auburn hair was too long and wild, and Ted was always telling me to get a hair cut. Because my lips were too full and my green eyes too large, I had to really ratchet up my machismo in my business dealings with customers or else they would think I was a wimp, or worse. However, I didn't have to put on my fake personality with him. I felt that I could be myself with him. Ted was an extreme extrovert and I was the opposite-sensitive and a bit of a romantic, too. There were times when Ted would make the rounds of the circular bar. He'd introduce himself to all the men there and talk sports, politics, real estate and who knows what and hit on the few women who dropped in (they were usually sitting in groups of three or four), with the suave confidence of a man who had really been around. I would simply sit there and watch him go through his routine. I don't know what I was thinking about at those times. Him, of course. But, what about him? Just that he was so cool, I guess, and that I admired him for it. If there was one flaw in our relationship, it was that Ted had a devilish streak. He liked to make mischief, especially when he was a little high. And I was the perfect foil for him. He knew that I was more vulnerable to temptation after a few hours of drinking at the bar. I could handle beer, but not the hard stuff. Around 10pm he would start ordering cognac for me from the bartender. Cognac and I do not get along. It's too strong. I would tell him that I wasn't going to drink it and that he was just wasting his money but he would order it anyway. It would sit there for a while and he would whisper and tell me all the reasons why I should drink it. And in the end I always did. The first cognac was followed by another and then another after that until I was wasted. As soon as he had me in the proper state of suggestibility, he would implement the second phase of whatever his plan was for the evening. Sometimes he wanted us to go see a porno movie together. Then he would sit next to me in the theater and critique the sex scenes, commenting on the size of the actors' cocks, or their technique. He always spoke dispassionately and rather loudly, just as if he was conducting a class in human sexuality for a bunch of college students. I knew that the other men dotting the audience were sitting with erections and that some were even masturbating in their seats or being explored by the hands of perverts. The last thing they wanted to hear was Ted pontificating about the film. I would feel terribly embarrassed. But Ted seemed oblivious to all that. Then he would begin to cross-examine me about my own sexual experience. Had I ever done a three-way? A circle jerk? It was really quite strange, but I was so intoxicated after the cognacs that the strangeness of it all didn't occur to me until well afterwards. And no, I had never done any of those things he asked me about. Once, he drove me out to his apartment against my will to watch a sex video he had taken of himself and his wife (he was still married at the time). I had never seen Ted's wife before. She had green eyes like me. The video showed her giving him a hand job and the only part of him that appeared on the screen was his dick. It was truly awesome. To say that it was very, very large and stiffer than any board I had ever seen is not to do it the justice it deserves. As I watched the video, I noticed that his wife came across as cooperative but very clinical as she pursued the task at hand, so to speak. It took a long time for him to come, and while I was waiting for the "money shot" (Ted taught me that term during one of his porno lectures), I stole several discreet glances at his lap to see if watching himself on the video was having any effect on him. As far as I could tell, it wasn't. I also began to think that if it had been me giving him that hand job instead of his wife, the video would have been ten minutes shorter. But that was the cognac talking. Several times Ted insisted that we go to a massage parlor he knew of and have one of the girls there blow us both at the same time. That was the one thing I refused to do, cognac or no cognac. There had been many other incidents like that with Ted, but the details are unimportant. The one constant in all those episodes was that he seemed determined to have me with him while some kind of sexual activity was going on. It made me nervous and confused, and I worried all the time about what it meant and where it was all headed, but not enough to ever want to give up our friendship. My life would have been pure shit without him in it. I think he knew that. I believed that at least part of the explanation for his behavior had to do with his determination to find out how much I could take before I would bail out on him. I think he had a problem with trust and he felt compelled to test me over and over again. And as our relationship deepened and became more comfortable, and he saw that I accepted all his eccentricities, he became more secure. But I also knew that there was something more to it than that. But what? I promised myself that if I was going to write this all down I was going to tell the complete truth and not leave anything out. Part of the reason for my uneasiness about Ted lay in the fact that I had a secret. They say a guilty conscience needs no accuser and I was afraid that somehow, some way, Ted had discovered the one thing about me I had never told to anyone. He had seen through me and found it out. As a teenager I had experimented with cross-dressing. It had been the usual stereotypical situation that many cross- dressers go through. I borrowed my sister's clothes and put them on whenever I was sure that I was completely alone in the house. My sister and I were close in size and Kathleen's sweaters and skirts fit me well. Feeling that my body was just whatever it was-I was willowy, with thin arms, and narrow shoulders, but a nice butt and really good legs-- I concentrated most of my time around make-up and hair. I knew that my face was my best feature and cosmetics helped to complete the illusion better than anything else. I got pretty good at it, actually. And when I had done making myself up and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror I saw this cute girl staring back at me. I realized from the first time I did it that I had freed another personality which had lain dormant inside me until then. There was no doubt in my mind that (Sorry, this part is going to get a bit complicated!) when I was made up as her I was really transformed into a different person with different values and thoughts and (especially) different feelings. I discovered a whole other range of emotions, which were completely unknown to my male self. I gave my female side the name Moira, which was what my mother intended to name me if I had been born a girl. Moira was still me but at the same time she (I) was not me. It was as if the left side of my brain had gone on dimmer switch and the right side glowed more brightly. My tastes changed. I felt much, much more giving. I felt an overwhelming need to be connected to people, to form relationships, whereas the male me was much more self- contained and a loner by nature. The paradox was that as Moira I couldn't socialize, but the boy I was most of the time could be with other people whenever I wanted. There were more superficial changes, too. I walked differently, sat differently, moved my hands differently, even sounded different, all without any effort. It seemed like a case of galloping schizophrenia, but I was quite clear headed at those times-- much more together (and happier) than I had ever been as a boy, and certainly lucid enough to know that I could never share myself as Moira with anyone else. And, with one exception, I never did. When I was sixteen, my sister married and moved away-taking with her the clothes, shoes, jewelry and cosmetics that Moira needed in order to be fully realized as a girl. I didn't have the nerve to replace any of it. I resigned myself to losing Moira forever. It was hard. I won't deny that I cried and cried the day my sister left the house, not only because I loved her and would miss her terribly, but also because I had to say good-bye to Moira, too. I lost my two best friends that day. Still, I thought, it was all for the best. What chance did Moira have, really? None. I was a boy, not a girl. Even though I had read many articles on the subject and had once even gone to a lecture moderated by that great lady Christine Jorgensen herself, I understood and accepted the fact that transvestites and transsexuals were almost universally rejected by society and therefore had no future. After that realization, I went about the business of becoming the manliest man I could become. It was not easy, given the limitations of my face and body. Nor could I ever forget that somewhere inside me was Moira, patiently waiting for an opportunity to show herself to the world. Her opportunity finally came when I was a senior in high school, but that wasn't my doing, and because the situation was so unique I was able to deal with it without any major harm being done. Whenever Ted spoke to someone he always looked him straight in the eye. A lot of people found him very disconcerting that way, because he seemed to be boring in on their deepest secrets. People with something to hide tended to look away from Ted when he was talking to them. But for me, Ted's look was almost hypnotic and I found myself staring right back into his eyes! I couldn't help but do it because I trusted him and I liked him and I didn't want him to think I had anything to hide like those other people who would turn away when he looked at them, even though I did. Then I would go home and lie awake questioning myself about what his searching look might have uncovered in me. I began to worry that he had found Moira living her secret life inside my body, and if he had, how that discovery would influence what he thought about me. But then I would tell myself that I was just being paranoid and that he couldn't really have done that. It was impossible. Except the idea did fit in very well with the strange games he played with me all the time. I wasn't a psychologist, but I knew enough about human behavior to know that there was something vaguely homosexual about our nightly escapades. But I was not gay, and, as far as I could tell, neither was he. And now I was going to live with him, at least for a while until I could decide what to do with myself. With both of us living so closely in the same environment, whatever had been building up between us to this point would quickly come to a head. I mean, either he was going to hit on me or, on the other hand, if it had all been a product of my overactive imagination and super sensitivity about Moira, I would find that out soon enough as well, because in that case he wouldn't hit on me. At least that was the logic I used at the time. Traffic finally began to loosen up around the Glen Cove exit on the Expressway. I called Ted on my cell phone to tell him that I would be there in about fifteen minutes. Then I forgot about my worries temporarily, concentrating instead on the DeBussy symphony I had slipped into my car's CD player, and humming the bits I knew by heart under my breath as I got nearer to Ted's apartment. Ted liked music, too. When he opened the door to let me in I could hear the Beachboys "Wouldn't It Be Nice?" playing in the background. His sound system was top of the line. He showed me a place in the closet that he claimed to have cleared for me to put my things in, and a shelf in the bathroom that he said he had reserved for my toiletries. Then he excused himself to wash his dinner dishes, and I used the time to walk around the living room. As he shouted small talk to me over the noise of running water in the kitchen, I surveyed the room. I liked it. Lining the walls were several blond bookshelves decorated with tasteful curios, many of which appeared to be made of real silver and porcelain. The prevailing color scheme in the room was beige and tan. The rug was neutral. The furniture was Scandinavian in style. It was the same apartment Ted had lived in when he was married. I assumed his ex-wife had picked out all the furnishings. "I like your ex-wife's taste," I said. "You should," he replied loudly from the kitchen. "You and she share the same sun sign. In fact, you're practically time twins. You were both born in the same year but you're three days older than she is-which is good-it gives you a better moon sign." All I knew about astrology was that I was a Cancer. I also knew that Ted was a Taurus. Sometimes I read the astrology column in the newspaper. Otherwise, I had no clue. Ted might as well have been talking about advanced calculus as far as I was concerned, but I played along. "What's her moon sign?" I asked. "Scorpio. You have a Libra moon. Much better..." "Oh? That's good..." I didn't have the slightest idea why a Libra moon was better. I changed the subject. It was getting late and we both had to work the next day. "Where do you want me to sleep?" He turned the water off in the kitchen and came into the living room still drying his hands on a red and white checked dishtowel and looking rather apologetic. "There's only one bed," he said. I assured him that was no problem. I would just sleep on the couch. But he explained that the couch was too uncomfortable, which he knew from personal experience. He said that his former wife had often exiled him to the couch and he hadn't gotten any sleep at all on those nights. No. There was nothing for it but that I would have to share his own bed with him. In fact, he insisted. This was not going well. I had only been there for twenty minutes and he had already arranged for me to put the things I'd brought with me where his wife used to keep hers, done an astrological analysis of her planets to mine, and now he was making me go to bed with him. True, it could all be very innocent, but I was starting to get that nervous feeling again. Particularly when I thought about the lines from that Beachboys' song he'd been playing: Oh, we could be married... We could be happy... Wouldn't it be nice? We sat down on Ted's couch and started to watch the news together on CNN. The couch seemed comfortable enough to me. I asked about sleeping on it again but he was adamant that the bed was the only option. A few minutes later, he got up and brought me back a cognac. I sat there pretending to sip the cognac and thinking this thing through. I had nowhere else to go. I was probably overreacting. If it got too weird, I could just leave. He was my boss and I should be very grateful that he was being so nice to me. I really did trust him. When the news was over I decided that it was time to kick, punt, or pass. Okay. I stood up. "May I see the bedroom, please?" I asked. The bedroom was about average in size for a suburban Long Island apartment, but it seemed crowded because the bed was so large. Although the top and one side of it were stuck up against the wall and were a potential trap for the person lying on the inside, I'd still be able to maintain a safe and conservative amount of space between the two of us. "Which side do you like to sleep on?" I asked Ted. "The side near the door," he replied. "I always sleep there." "So do I," I said, hoping he would offer it to me. He shrugged. I took that to mean that I was not getting it. Since it was so obvious that his wife must have slept on the inside too, that just reinforced the crazy idea I had that Ted wanted me to replace her in every way. If he started grabbing at me in the middle of the night I'd be pinned against the wall with no way to get away from him. Ted left, which gave me a chance to study the rest of the bedroom. He came back with a couple of towels, a wash cloth and a bar of Camay soap still in the wrapper. "Take a shower," he said. "I'll be up late tonight working on a presentation. If you're tired you can go straight to sleep." I usually slept in my briefs. But in my current state of mind, I had no intention of doing that. "Do you have any pajamas I could borrow?" I asked. "No, I never wear them. But I do have this," he said, rooting around in the closet. He produced an emerald green nightshirt that looked to be made out of satin, or a synthetic material like satin. It buttoned down the front. The buttons were on the wrong side, and the cuffs were ruffled. "Thanks." What else could I say? My heart was sinking. I had screwed myself again. Ted must have seen the reaction on my face. He smiled. "One size fits all," he said. He paused. Then he laughed. When Ted laughed, as he often did, the laughter came from deep inside him, sort of like a volcano rumbling and then exploding lava into the air, except in his case it was laughter not lava. "Just kidding," he said, once he stopped laughing. He put the nightshirt back in the closet and drew out another one made of cotton, which he held out for me to inspect. Although it still buttoned on the wrong side, at least it was cut like a man's shirt, except longer, of course, and it was the same color blue as the winter sky just after sunset. I'm not sure what shade of blue that is exactly, but I think it's quite beautiful. Taking the nightshirt from him, I think I must have turned as red as a ripe tomato. Ted had put one over on me again. It was so embarrassing. I picked up the towels and soap and went into the bathroom without saying anything. I didn't even look at him, but I knew he had a smirk on his face. I spent a long time in the shower. It calmed me down. I found a razor in the medicine cabinet and shaved my body, which is something I normally do anyway-and Ted already knew that I was in the habit of doing that, so it wasn't a big deal-- doing it the first night I was there, I mean. I put on a pair of black briefs. I sniffed the nightshirt. It was clean. There was no trace of another person's perfume or body scent on it. I put the nightshirt over my head and went in to bed. Despite all the stress I had been feeling, I fell asleep immediately, lying on my stomach and hugging my pillow for all it was worth. I must have really been worn out. I only woke up once during the night, and that was when Ted came in. He stroked my back briefly, mumbled something unintelligible, and then rolled over and went to sleep. In a few minutes he was snoring like a buzz saw. I didn't mind at all. Tomorrow I would get him some of those nasal- dilating clips that football players wore. They said in the commercials that they were one hundred percent effective to stop snoring. Then I fell back to sleep myself. I woke up the next morning to bright sunlight. Ted had already gone to the office. He left me a note on the nightstand saying that I was excused from work for the day because he knew I had a lot to do. I sat there on the edge of the bed for a few minutes with Ted's note in my hand and I started tearing up. I felt like an ungrateful rat. All I had been thinking about was myself. And here was this wonderful man opening up his home to me and being as good a friend as he could be. And I was so worried that he was trying to exploit me, when all he was trying to do was help me. I felt so guilty. I had to make it up to him. I moved like a Texas tornado that day. In addition to calling my mother and reporting my change of address to those who needed to know and contacting a lawyer and doing all the other things a newly separated man has to do, I also vacuumed, dusted, scrubbed the bathroom, did the laundry, found the local supermarket and had a steak dinner waiting for Ted when he got home. He loved steak. That pretty much set a pattern for us for the next several weeks. We drove to work together and came home together. We stopped going out to the bar every night because there just didn't seem to be any need to go there anymore. I did the cooking and the cleaning and the laundry. Ted helped with the shopping and set up a budget for us and managed the household accounts-he put away a certain amount from our pay each week to cover the electricity and rent and telephone and car insurance and different credit card accounts. On the weekends we went to the movies or the mall. Each night I would go to bed first and Ted would come in much later. He was still something of a night owl. Nothing ever happened and my confidence grew that he just wanted me as a friend and nothing more. But I continued to wear the nightshirts, just as a precaution, eventually even the emerald green one once, when I got a little behind with the washing. The most he ever did was to pet me briefly before he went to sleep, but I think he did that as his way of letting me know he was there for me during a difficult time. The days passed quickly. We were so busy that somehow I never got a chance to look for my own apartment. One Saturday afternoon in late August we had just finished listening to the score of "Pacific Overtures." It had been raining very hard all day and neither of us felt like going out. I was curled up in a chair with the libretto in my hands and Ted was lying on the couch with his arms behind his head and his eyes closed. I thought he was taking a nap because he didn't care for Sondheim all that much (he was strictly retro-- Fleetwood Mac, Beatles, and Brian Wilson- so we took turns listening to music and it was my turn), but he hadn't been napping, he'd been thinking. "Have you found a place to live, yet?" he asked. He knew darn well I hadn't, so I took the question as rhetorical. "No," I replied cautiously, wondering where he was going with this? I thought we had really worked things out well and we were both happy with our arrangement even if we had said at the beginning that it might only be temporary. Was he going to ask me to leave? "It's been working out for us, hasn't it?" he asked, raising his head from the chocolate colored toss pillow he'd been resting it on. From the tone of his voice and the leading way he had phrased the question, I gathered he only wanted one response from me. I gave it to him. "Yes," I said. He sat up and started clearing his throat. I began to feel that he was about to say something important. I realized that I was clutching the libretto to my chest. I put in on my lap. His eyes narrowed in a way that was more self-protective than calculating, as if he really had something big at risk when he asked me the next question. "Then why don't you just stay here with me?" "You don't mind?" I wanted to be sure that he was sure. I knew I was sure. "Not at all!" he replied with his typical jock-in-the- locker-room enthusiasm. "Yes, I would very much like to stay," I said, suddenly feeling that I had made some sort of commitment to him. Well, I guess I had. "Good! That's what I wanted to hear." Whatever apparent uncertainty Ted may have been experiencing evaporated immediately after I answered him. He bounced up from the couch and disappeared. Instead of returning with champagne and a couple of glasses, which was what I thought he was going to do, he came back in with a scissors, some combs, a towel, and an old fashioned straight razor. "Since we're official roomies now, I'm going to do something I've wanted to do for a long time," he announced, clicking the scissors for emphasis and giving me a very rapacious look. If he was the wolf, I had a feeling that I was going to be the sheep. I cringed. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bathroom where the light was better than anywhere else in the apartment and proceeded to wash, cut and set my hair. I admit that I was passive throughout the whole process. What could I do? The man had just given me permission to stay with him permanently. Besides, Ted was unstoppable when he got like that, anyway. I was curious about his qualifications, though. "Where did you learn to cut hair?" I asked. "In the Army," he said, snipping away. Oh, God! When he was finished, I thought at first that I should pretend I wasn't at all interested in whatever he'd done to me, just to piss him off a little and get back at him for being so high handed. But I was too apprehensive that he had me looking like a recruit fresh out of boot camp. I had to see the new look. Especially after I saw that he had that mischievous smirk on his face again. (Sometimes, Ted acted just like a little boy.) So I pretended to wipe the bathroom mirror with a towel while I assessed the damage. It was a new look, all right! But instead of giving me a crew cut, Ted had parted my hair in the middle and brushed it back and cut it in layers so that when it came forward again, it framed my face in a way that made me look, um.... Dare I use the word? It made me look, um.... I couldn't say it. Ted said it for me. "Beautiful! It came out beautiful! Don't you think?" I couldn't answer him. My face felt hot. I started cleaning the sink. "What's the matter?" Ted was puzzled and disappointed. I wasn't reacting the way he thought I would. "It's very nice. But I don't think it's going to fly at the office," I said. "Oh, yes it will!" Ted argued. "We'll just mousse it up a little and..." He made me look in the mirror again while he pulled the sides back with his hands to demonstrate what he meant. Not too bad! I probably could get way with going out in public like that. But that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was that the style he had chosen made me look too much like you-know-who. And that made me afraid. And it thrilled me, which made me even more afraid. Of course, I couldn't tell Ted what I was thinking. I needed an excuse to get way from that mirror. "You didn't learn how to cut hair this way in the Army! You were never in the Army!" I said, turning around and poking him in the chest. He laughed like the sneaky person he was. "My mother was a beautician. I practically grew up in a salon. Didn't I ever tell you that?" He had an amazed like on his face, like "How could I not know that about him?" "You never told me that!" I couldn't believe his act! "I didn't?" He was all innocence. "No!" I knew he was full of shit. He'd never shared anything with me concerning his family. But for some unknown reason, I suddenly wanted to know everything about them. Ted agreed to tell me, but only on condition that I admit what a magnificent job he had done with my hair and also that we go out to eat Chinese food at the Szechuan Dynasty Restaurant. I accepted-provided it had stopped raining. It had. A strong wave of gratitude washed over me. So I hugged him for the first time ever and thanked him for letting me stay with him and I told him how talented he was (because I knew that he meant it when he said that he wanted praise for the haircut). He never noticed that I started getting weepy after that because I explained to him that some of the conditioner had gotten in my eye. We had an intense time at the restaurant. First, we ordered "Happy Family," because it seemed like an appropriate choice to celebrate both our decision to stay together, and the subject of our dinner conversation. Then Ted began to tell me about his family. It was no surprise to learn that they were all a little nuts, because he certainly was. They had come from a part of Germany that was near the Polish border. Both his parents had grown up in a small farming community. The years after World War Two had been very hard for them and their own parents because the East German government had taken their land away and collectivized all the farmers. That's why his mother and father had decided to immigrate to the United States once they were old enough to make a decision like that. It was a dangerous decision and planning it took a long time because it meant sneaking over the border into the West. They could have been shot trying to escape. Ted and his only sister had been born here after some naturalized American relatives had helped his parents to get settled in New York in the early seventies. The father was good with his hands and got work as a machinist. The mother stayed home and raised the children. They wanted to live the American dream. They wanted a house of their own. One income wasn't enough. As soon as Ted and his sister Karin were in school full time, the mother sought out a career for herself. She became a shampoo girl in a local beauty salon, liked it, went for training and eventually became a hairdresser, just as Ted had said. Ted's childhood hadn't exactly been a bed or roses. The parents were thrifty and he and Karin had been denied many of the things other children in the neighborhood took for granted. There was no TV set in the house until they were almost teenagers. Most of their toys were home made. Clothes were worn until they were completely used up. Ted remembered going to school in pants that barely covered the tops of his socks. But he made sure that no one dared make fun of him or his sister by developing a reputation for being the toughest kid in the school. Football was the perfect outlet for a boy who enjoyed hitting people, and he liked the extra respect he got from the other students in high school because he was such a competent athlete. But despite the recognition he got from everyone because of his physical abilities, and despite his engaging personality, he confessed to me that he still always felt like an outsider. The father was difficult. He worked as much overtime as he could. When he wasn't working he was usually drunk. He did not interact much with his son and daughter except to criticize them, or smack them, particularly Ted. The mother tried to compensate for the father's deficiencies by over- involving herself with the children. She told them that everything they did was wonderful, and the father told them that everything they did was wrong. In order to protect themselves, Ted and Karin had to develop real strength of character or else they would have dissolved into a pair of insecure neurotics. "Winning is very important to me," Ted said. Then he told me about the Bowl game he had played as a senior in college. His father had never come to a single football game throughout his high school and college careers, dismissing football as a crude perversion of the real game of football that was played In Europe. This time, Ted really wanted him there. It was the most important game he would ever play. It was also his last. He did everything but beg his father to come to watch him play. "Did he come?" I asked, knowing the answer before he gave it, but needing to see how he would react when he said it. "No, of course not." He replied without a trace of disappointment in his voice. Linebackers hit people hard. Ted set records for a linebacker in that Bowl game that have yet to be broken. True, he had won a football game, but I think he won something more important that day than just a football game. He won freedom from the need to have other people's approval for what he did. He became his own person that day. I wished I were more like him. I told him how much I admired what he had done with his life. Then it was my turn. I didn't want to really tell him anything about my childhood. It had been pretty grim. I didn't want him to know that. I didn't want him to know that, unlike him, hard times hadn't made me stronger, they'd made me weaker. I didn't want him feeling sorry for me. But he had been very open about himself and I could see that he expected me to reciprocate. I told him as little as I could-that I had grown up in Manhattan, and that our lives shared some similarities because I was very close to my sister, and my parents, like his, had also been dysfunctional. After I went silent, he started giving me the third degree, and I started giving him short answers back. "What was the story with your father?" "He left," I said. "And your mother?" "She was depressed most of the time." When he saw that I was beginning to get really upset, he changed his line of questioning. "Where did you go to high school?" "I went to The High School for the Performing Arts," I told him. "Really? What was your major?" "Theatre." "Theatre!" For some reason, completely unknown to me, Ted got excited all of a sudden. "Did you study Shakespeare?" "Of course! He's worshipped like a god in that school! I had so much exposure to Shakespeare that the Bard of Avon was practically coming out of my butt!" I laughed too much after I said it. But it struck me as being very funny. "He's the man! I've read it all! What's your favorite play?" I didn't want to tell him. It would sound too corny. "Oh, I don't know. It's hard to say. All his plays are fantastic..." Instead of sounding corny, I was sounding like a dope. "I know what it is," Ted concluded, after giving the question some thought. He wouldn't know! I decided to challenge him. "What?" I asked him, looking defiant. "Romeo and Juliet!" One corner of his mouth was turned up in a smile. "Yes, you're right! That's amazing!!" I exclaimed. Actually, I blurted, I didn't exclaim. This man knew me too well. I not only loved the play more than any other, but I had performed in it as my senior project. My beloved teacher Mr. Hartley, who had served as a father-figure for me in place of my own missing father, had chosen it and then cast it in the Elizabethan tradition-meaning that he had cast boys to play the female parts. I was shocked almost to the point of passing out when he cast me as Juliet. Only Mr. Hartley could have given me the confidence to play that part in front of an audience full of teenagers who, even if they were "artsier" than the average, could still be very cruel. But I had one thing going for me that no one else knew about. I had Moira. And she came through. We performed it right in the school's main auditorium, with a set, in full costume and makeup, for the entire senior class. There had been some snorting and general rudeness and cat calling when Lady Capulet and the Nurse (played by a very fat classmate of mine named Rocco Baldamente) first made their appearance. But even the most delinquent boys got quiet and interested when Romeo and I did the party and balcony scenes. By the time I said my last lines as Juliet in the tomb and killed myself, there wasn't a girl in that audience who wasn't crying her eyes out. But all the senior boys avoided being seen with me after that, except for the extremely gay ones. And, of course, they were the very people I didn't want to be seen with. So, I was kind of lonely those last few weeks of school. After Moira made her one and only public appearance, I never acted again. Ted brought me back to the present when he said, "It couldn't have been any other play. I know you." I thought he was getting too cocky for his own good. "So, what's your favorite?" I asked, hoping to put the focus back on him. "Titus Andronicus, of course." "Really and truly?" That was such a bloody and mean revenge play! Shakespeare had probably not even written most of it. "Just kidding" he replied. "Actually, it's Hamlet! It taught me a lot." "What did you learn?" I was just starting to appreciate how deep Ted really was. "I learned how to get what I want. No matter what I have to do, no matter how long it takes. I know how to get it," he told me. I didn't quite understand. Hamlet's obsession had led to his destruction and the deaths of all the people he loved the most. When I tested Ted on that he simply said, "Sometimes you have to do what you have to do. Once you've set things in motion, you follow through, no matter what. That's what a real man does." This was a side of Ted I didn't know. I was disturbed by what he was saying. I wanted to ask him more questions, but it was way past time to leave. The check had been sitting there for a long time, all the other customers had already left, and the waiter was hovering nearby looking very tired. After Ted paid the check, the cashier wished the gentleman and his lady a good evening. I was confused for a moment, but then I guessed that the new hairstyle combined with the androgynous jogging suit I was wearing caused her to make a mistake. Ted just smiled and held the door open for me. That night Ted was the one to fall asleep first. I kept lying there, wide awake, thinking about what he had told me at dinner. I had never had a friend like him. His honesty really affected me. I realized that our friendship was becoming more and more intimate. We had been close before but now we were taking it to a whole other level. I hoped we could both handle it. I hoped I could handle it. When we were in the restaurant and he was speaking to me in that direct way of his about his childhood and his family, my emotions had almost gotten out of control. Underneath all that confidence and humor and steel determination of his, I knew he was hurting. We hadn't even spoken about his failed marriage yet. I felt so much sympathy for him that I wanted to cry, I wanted him to cry, and I had had this crazy urge to hold his hand because I felt so badly for him. I couldn't imagine what his reaction would have been if I had actually done it. I must be going out of my mind. I needed rest. But I couldn't fall asleep. Ted was snoring louder than usual. I got one of those nasal dilators out of the medicine cabinet and gently pressed it across the bridge of his nose without waking him. It worked, and the best part of it was that the inside of my head got quieter the minute the room got quieter. I finally went to sleep. But not before spending a few minutes pushing my extraordinary friend's hair away from his face with my fingers. Then I did the weirdest thing. I kissed him right on the forehead. The following week, Ted announced that we were going to get in shape. He took me down to the local gym and signed us both up for a year. I told him I had no intention of going into the weight room and having a bunch of muscle guys staring at my puny body. But after looking at the programs, I agreed to take a class in aerobics and another one in yoga. We also began running together in the morning. Ted bought a juicer and he started us both gulping vitamins. I noticed his bottles were different from mine. He told me that every person's metabolism and body weight were completely unique and so we needed different combinations and dosages of vitamins and minerals. We ate fruits and vegetables and fish and rice until neither of us could stand it anymore. The yogurt and cottage cheese weren't so bad. We cheated though. On Saturday nights we dined out and had anything we wanted. Our rationale was that it kept us motivated. I started to notice that my body was changing about a month after we began our diet and fitness routine. I had lost five pounds and almost two inches from my waist, which was good. But my hips were actually getting larger. My butt, which had been a mite too heart-shaped to begin with, appeared to be becoming more so, and there was definitely more total butt there than before. My chest also seemed to be enlarging. I tried to think of a reason why that would be happening. I ended up blaming it on the very moderate weight training I did as part of the aerobics workout. But I concluded that the overall effect that exercising was having on me so far was that I was getting curvier except for the waistline. I must be taking in too many dead calories. Damn! Now I'd have to give up our Saturday night food fests! A week before Halloween, Ted told me that we'd been invited to a costume party. I had never been to one in my life. I didn't like the idea at all. I asked him if we could skip it. He said we couldn't. Besides, he told me, he had already ordered the costumes. "What costumes?" I demanded to know. I felt like I was being railroaded. I should at least have the right to choose my own costume! "You'll love them," Ted assured me. "We're going as one of history's most famous twosomes." Then he laughed. I didn't like the sound of that laugh. I started guessing. "What famous twosome? Mutt and Jeff? Stanley and Livingston? Rogers and Hammerstein?" When he just sat there looking smug, I started hitting him with a throw pillow. "Gin and Tonic? Ali and Frazier? Snow White and Rose Red?" I was running out of famous twosomes. "No, but you're getting closer," he said. He absolutely refused to tell me. He said he wanted it to be a surprise. He assured me that I'd love what he'd picked out. I doubted that very much. Halloween was on a Friday. We both took the day off. I woke up, alone, lying on my right side. My chest felt lopsided somehow. I looked down. I had cleavage. That's why my chest felt strange, it was listing to starboard. Oh, my God! I got up and unbuttoned the top five buttons on my nightshirt and examined myself in the mirrored doors on the bedroom closet. Two breasts the sizes of half-grapefruits were staring back at me. I bent over at the waist. That really made them large. I stood up straight, closed my eyes and opened them again for a second reality check. My new boobs were still there. I thought how amazing it was that people could go through their daily routine and never notice major changes taking place in their own body. True, I had been aware that my chest size was increasing, but I'd never considered that the reason for it was because I was developing a bust. There had been times, especially when I was running, when I had felt some sensation in my chest, and I had been more aware of sensitivity in my nipples recently when I wore certain fabrics, especially without an undershirt, but I hadn't given any of that a serious thought. I supposed that was how someone could develop a giant tumor on his head and then tell the doctor quite honestly that he had no idea how it got there, believing it had just appeared overnight-when in reality, it had been festering for quite some time. Not that I thought of my new bosoms as festering tumors, in fact they looked quite healthy. I am just saying that we operate on automatic so much of the time, that things like this can happen, and we are totally oblivious to them. In any event, that was what I was thinking as I stared at my new pulchritude, that and the fact that I had no intention of telling Ted about this. No way. I heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. I threw myself back under the covers and buttoned my shirt. Ted came into the bedroom with two huge boxes and dumped them on the bed. He returned a minute later with several shopping bags. "Hi! You awake yet?" He looked very pleased. I watched him pile everything onto his side of the bed until I couldn't see over the top. I sat up, but I pulled the covers up with me. Ted left the room. I really was curious to see those costumes. I reached out for one of the shopping bags just to tip it a little bit and take a peek but Ted came right back in with even more bags and asked me to make breakfast. Rats. We spent the afternoon watching horror movies and answering the occasional doorbell to give candy to trick-or-treaters. Some of the little ones were so cute. They came dressed as vegetables, and storybook characters, and one little red headed girl about five years old was the most adorable fairy princess I had ever seen. When it was time to get ready, I left two tubs of candy outside our door along with a note instructing the children to take no more than three pieces of candy each. I hoped they would all do the right thing. Ted told me to shower before he did because my costume would take more time than his. As soon as I was done, I went into the bedroom and opened those mysterious boxes. It took me a second to figure out what I was looking at. The first outfit was obviously inspired by the Renaissance. There were tights, a doublet, hose, boots and a dagger. None of that clothing looked like it had ever been worn. Partially hidden in the tissue paper that lined the inside of the box was a very small package wrapped in black and tied with silver thread. There was a tag attached to the string that said, "Do Not Open On Pain of Death." Ted was such a child. The second box contained a beautiful pale green velvet gown covered with gold netting around the skirt, with an elaborately embroidered and daring bodice. The dress, like the male costume, also looked very expensive and brand new. These clothes were not rentals from a costume shop. The other bags contained all sorts of things meant to support the second costume. I found a pair of gold slippers, good quality costume jewelry including a pair of bangled earrings, a bracelet, and several rings, one of which was set with what I guessed were synthetic emeralds. The best piece was an exquisite gold choker inlaid with emeralds similar to those in the ring. A small white box contained a snood made of the same gold netting that decorated the gown. Another package held a ton of cosmetics, fake nails, nail polishes and a manicure set. There was perfume in another. I discovered a complete array of delicate silk undergarments and pale green hosiery from a very trendy store in a shopping bag marked with the trendy store's logo. The last thing I discovered was a short corset that looked painfully narrow. Ted couldn't have shopped for all these accessories in one day. He must have been buying them for weeks and hiding them in the trunk of his car. I knew that Ted meant for me to wear that gown. But I couldn't! I just couldn't! Could I? A lot of money had been invested in all those beautiful clothes. Ted must be serious. But how could he do this to me? How could he put me in this position? How could he take me for granted like this? I was so mad at him I wanted to slap his face. Ted was controlling. Well, he wasn't going to be in control of me anymore! I decided that the best way to punish him was to let him see me made up and dressed and then to tell him that he had to stop being so manipulative. To show him how serious I was, I was also going to tell him that I wasn't going to the party. That ought to teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget. I started unpacking and organizing everything. I did the best I could, considering that a real Renaissance woman would have required the assistance of two or three maids to get everything right. At least I wouldn't need to pad my chest. The hardest part was the corset. I sat down on the floor and I tied the laces around the frame of the bed and pulled myself forward as hard as I could. When I couldn't take a decent breath without the room spinning around, I knew the corset was tight enough. I really wanted Ted to suffer, so I put everything I had into becoming as beautiful as I could be. The makeup was no problem thanks to my high school theatre training and my extra experience in secret as Moira. I chose a very light base, a subtle rouge and a pale pink lip gloss that would make me look as young and innocent as possible. I used green eye shadow and exaggerated the size of my eyes with some liner and mascara. I applied the nails, and painted them a shade of pearl to match the pearls dangling from the golden circlet that went around the top of my head. I used a small amount of perfume. The snood was a pain, because my hair wasn't quite long enough, but I experimented and found that if I rolled the ends under it looked credible. I stepped into the slippers and I was done, except for one final check in the mirror. Although it had taken me over two hours to do it, the image I saw reflected there was that of one delectable little sixteenth century chick with a very decent rack swelling out of her bodice. I was ready for Teddy. I picked up my skirts and flounced into the living room, all set to rock his chauvinistic world, even if he was almost a foot taller than I was! And I would have, too-if he hadn't done the most amazing thing when he saw me. He was standing there in a bath towel holding a book in his hand. He had a look on his face that I'm not sure how to describe. Okay, I do know how to describe it. It was, um... adoring. My greatest fears had been fulfilled. Ted adored me. Then he held up his right hand and said, reading from the book, "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss..." How well I knew those words! I had to answer him, even though part of me didn't want to. I was also melting, and I didn't want to do that either... "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss." As I recited Juliet's lines, which I had learned so long ago, I brought my trembling right hand up and pressed it against his own and we began to circle each other in a slow imitation of a dance made popular about four hundred years ago called a sarabande. Then Ted responded to Juliet's demure refusal to kiss him. "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?" I spoke Juliet's reply right back to him. "Aye, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer." I wasn't in the slightest angry with him anymore, but I wasn't going to kiss him! Romeo/Ted pressed his case. "O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." He looked very serious. I stopped dancing and put my hand down. A Beachboys' CD was playing in the background. I hadn't noticed it before, because the sound was set so low, but in the sudden stillness, with the two of us standing frozen like that, I could suddenly hear the opening notes of "Wouldn't It Be Nice?" What did I want? I didn't know anymore. I let Juliet answer that question for me. "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake." My whole body was shaking after I said it. I was sure that I was going to faint. I looked at him. It was his move. Ted didn't need the book any more. He knew the next lines by heart. "Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take," he said, coming up to me and putting his arms around me. "Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged." And having said that he kissed me. I had only experienced ecstasy once before in my life. The memory is hazy, more like a dream, and it was only recently that I'd begun to remember it at all. But as a small child of three or four I had been standing in the middle of a field of blue bonnets one summer afternoon. The sky was as blue as the flowers and the flowers went on and on and on in every direction and I knew that I was at one with those infinite fields of flowers and the infinite sky above them. The second time was when Ted kissed me. And just like the fields of blue bonnets, that kiss went on and on and on. I really did faint. But I don't think Ted realized I had, because when I opened my eyes again he was still kissing me. When he stopped, I looked up at him for a moment in pure wonder. He looked happier than I had ever seen him. In fact, he looked as ecstatic as I was feeling. But I still hesitated to say the next line. Juliet's last words in that scene were fateful, because in saying them she had made a commitment that not even death itself could break. I looked down. If I said them now, I knew that I would be just as committed as she had been. When I brought my face up again, I could see the look of hope in Ted's eyes; and I never stopped gazing into those lovely blue bonnet blue eyes of his when I murmured, "Then have my lips the sin that they have took." I brought my arms, which had been hanging limply at my sides all that time, up around his neck, and he finished our scene and finished me too because there was nothing left of me by then. He said, "Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again." I had no will or desire or thought or care except to kiss him back. To say that we ended up going to the costume party and having a great time sounds a little anticlimactic after everything that had happened that afternoon, but that's what we did. Our relationship since then has been what relationships are meant to be-- loving, caring and supportive. I only dress as a male for work now. Nights and weekends belong to my female side. It may be that soon I will be female all the time, because people like me really can have a future. I was wrong about that. But in my case, with Ted's help, the realization didn't come too late. I've often asked him if he planned all this from the start, but he won't give me a straight answer. I think he did. I think he is a very cunning man. Someday I will coax the truth out of him. I have my ways. We're still playing the game. Ted calls it "doing the Bard of Avon." Out of the blue, he'll just say, "Hey, Moira! Let's do the Bard of Avon!" So far we've played Petruchio and Kate in the Taming of the Shrew, and Valentine and Silvia in Two Gentlemen of Verona, but we always come back to Romeo and Juliet. We've already done the balcony scene. Ted bought me a white linen shift for that one, and we used the kitchen counter for the balcony. After that we did the lines in Act Two, Scene Five, where Romeo and I meet to exchange marriage vows. Tomorrow, we are doing Act Five, Scene Three. Romeo poisons himself and I kill myself with a dagger when I realize he is dead. We're going to do it in the bedroom. Ted's very excited about it. Naturally, he is. Romeo has his last and finest monologue in Act Five. Ted is so talented! When he's playing his roles, I don't see any lying in him. I think it's a shame that he never wanted to be an actor. I can tell he wants the death scene to go well because we've rehearsed it a lot. By the time we've run it over and over again, we're both emotional wrecks. Still, he keeps asking me if I'll know what to do. Of course, I'll know what to do! Besides, I love him so much that I want to please him in everything. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for him. I rented a DVD for Ted and I to watch tomorrow-- to get us in the right mood for the final scene. It's about two young people who fall so deeply in love that they don't care for either context or consequences as long as they can be together. Can you guess what it is? It's art imitating real life. That's what it is. End

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Motherless Cuckold

No matter what type of porn you may be in the market for, Motherless has an ample supply of it, and cucking is no different. Actually, this might help to explain how you ended up being such a pussy little cuck.The journey that brought you to my website reading cuck porn reviews started in your childhood. A fair portion of my readership is actually motherless. Why, you ask? Your guys' moms chose a life of cucking and riding cock instead of raising you fucks properly.Don't worry, gents. I'm in...

Cuckold Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Horror

I browsed the horror stash at Motherless all morning, and now I don’t know if I should jack off or go hide in the closet until the danger has passed. Then again, hiding out might give me the perfect opportunity to rub one out in the peace and safety of the dark. Who knows who—or what—might be peeping in the windows with nefarious intent if I sit at my desk and shake my dick at the screen. Just like when I masturbate at the local Starbucks, I’ve got to be sure to balance the potential pleasure...

Extreme Porn Websites
1 year ago
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Motherless Incest

Incest porn has been a staple of pornography since the very first incel caveman realized that he couldn’t find fresh pussy out and about. He resorted to sniffing a whiff of his mother’s loincloth when she wasn’t looking, and beating his old cave meat into a leather sock.Now personally I’m not into the whole mommy-son dynamic – I’m a classy guy. But it’s no secret people like to get freaky when the lights go out, and if you’ve got a stiffy in your hand and you’re on Motherless, you gotta go...

Incest Porn Sites
2 years ago
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Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Thanks to my usual cast and crew of Editors and Advance Readers, most of whom prefer to pretend that they don’t know me and wisely wish to take no responsibility for any part of my addled writings... Il n’est rien de réel que le rêve et l’amour - Nothing is real but dreams and love (from Le Coeur innombrable, IV, Chanson du temps opportun by Anna de Noailles) She was my one true mistress and ever faithful lover, my Green Lady and guardian of my dreams and now that I was back home...

2 years ago
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Thea Chapter Four

When the car with Jake in it became a dot on the horizon, Thea turned to go back in the house. Suddenly Floyd appeared. “Mrs. Thea, how you be?” Smiling, she knew immediately what he wanted. He had that look and a glance at his crotch confirmed it. The imprint of his cock was prominent as it pushed against the material. “Looks like everyone is gone.” Floyd said. His eyes looking out over the farm. “Yes, I am by myself for at least the next few days.” She replied in an...

3 years ago
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Thea and Sam

“Well, hell,” Thea said as she wiped the beads of perspiration from her face. “I guess ‘spring’ is here, huh?” “Yeah. It’s supposed to be cooler at higher elevation,” I replied. We took a few minutes in the shade by the rocks before rejoining our boyfriends. The four of us had driven up into the pass to hike. According to the weather report, the last coolness of a fading winter was supposed to continue through mid-week, but they were wrong. Actually, from our view from Eagle Point, where we’d...

1 year ago
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Motherless

Motherless.com! What an original name for a porn site, don't you think? The title doesn't fuck around: your mother would never allow you to watch the kind of filth they’ve got on tap. They pride themselves on being a moral-free zone for sick fucks, where you can find damn near anything. I’m talking about desperate chicks fucking anything that resembles a dick and crazy bitches literally eating shit. When you’re done fapping to the weird vids, you can even find "normal" porno to pass the time....

Free Porn Tube Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Interracial

Ah, motherless, here we are again. A site known for offering such a variety, that no matter how fucked up your needs are, there is a high chance that you will fulfill them here. However, I am not here to blab about the site in general; I am here to talk about one particular category, interracial. As for those who want to know more about the site, there is a whole different review on my website instead.As for those who came here to learn more about that interracial lovemaking, I got your back....

Interracial Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Theos LIfe as a Weresquirrel

Theo had been changing into the squirrel too much, he knew that now... as a pulse of heat raced through his body from his groin. He realized that he shouldn't have come to the office.He had been spending most of his days at the squirrel in his home deep in the countryside. Teleworking most of the time, as the squirrel he felt no need for clothes, his heavy furred balls resting between his thighs as his paws raced over the keyboard. The sharp claws on his paws clattering loudly as he typed,...

Fantasy & Sci-Fi
1 year ago
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Motherless Scat

It’s time to go to the land of chocolate fountains and golden showers. That’s right. Scat, piss, shit, and every fluid in between. Ever fuck a chick in her ass and freak out when you see that little bit of shit on your dick? Then I’m sorry to say that scat isn’t for you buddy. Were you the only one of your friends that saw two girls one cup and didn’t get grossed out? If so, it’s time to celebrate it! Don’t get pissed off, get pissed on! Scat porn has the craziest, kinkiest chicks and dudes...

Scat Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Fappening

I’m not saying anything controversial when I say men love seeing women naked. It’s a fact of life as fundamental as gravity. It’s a force of nature that cannot be stopped by beast, man, or God. It’s an eternal truth and a divine mandate. As sure as the sun will rise, men will attempt to view as many women naked as they possibly can. Any man not doing so is either a sad or a gay one.This means that any woman a man sees regularly is mentally stripped down during every interaction. If any women...

The Fappening
3 years ago
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Absinthe Dreams

‘To me it’s not really a green. When I think green, I think of grass. That’s more like lemonade color.’ Erica’s nose was far too close to the glasses for my taste. Pouring the nearly clear absinthe over the rough-cut, cane-sugar cubes I favor, I tapped my spoon for a second to get her to back up. I wished I had my full setup here like I have at home, my Absinthe fountains water drippers are missed when I began to try and slowly pour water over the sugar cube. ‘Don’t you light it on fire?’ she...

1 year ago
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Motherless Arab

Have you ever heard about a wonderful site called “Motherless”? I have a feeling that was a dumb question, of course, you fucking have. Well, I am here to talk about Motherless, but I shall also pay special attention to their Arab category. If you think Arabian sluts are hot, well you are in for a tasty treat, believe me.First, I should probably warn you that the name of this place comes from the fact that their content might be a bit too hardcore or questionable for some of you. Back in the...

Arab Porn Sites
1 year ago
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Motherless Facials

Fuck yeah, life’s a bitch! So here I am, awake at 3:45 AM, after dreaming I was fucking this freaking hot MILF neighbor with heavy boobs, a flat tummy, a nice bubble butt, and sexy long legs. It was all hot and steamy, up until when she was sucking me off and just as I was about to obliterate her cute face with hot cum canon, my dream cut right off and I woke up with a tent on my pajamas.That dream ain’t coming back, but damn it! I sure gotta cum, so I boot up my laptop and type “cum facial” in...

Facial Cumshot Porn Sites
3 years ago
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Thea

Und draußen schallte wieder Punkmusik aus dem Ghettoblaster – von der Eisenbahnunterführung bis zu seinem Haus! Punks und Skater hingen da ab. Das war diese Art von Jugendlichen, die ihren Eltern das Leben schwer macht , die von Arbeit nichts hielten, sich an keine Regeln hielten, ständig auf Party machten. Die soffen viel zu viel und kotzten dann in irgendeine Ecke. Denen bedeutete doch nichts und niemand etwas. Wahrscheinlich nahmen sie auch Drogen und trieben weiß-Gott-was mit...

BDSM
1 year ago
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Motherless Fetish

Motherless is the mother of all porn sites. Motherless has no conscience or moral guide. Motherless will show you the stuff that all other porn sites are afraid to put up. Motherless will do this for free. This is seriously one of the nastiest and raunchiest sites out there and Motherless/Fetish is perhaps one of the dirtiest places on the web that are well within reach. Sure you can scan the dark web and find something even more naughty or puzzlingly gross, but why do that when you’ve got...

Fetish Porn Sites
3 years ago
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Absinthe 2 The Absinthe of Malice

Absinthe 2: The Absinthe of Malice By Morpheus The flight from Seattle to Boston had been extremely long and uncomfortable, even with the two hour delay in Chicago where I got to stretch my legs and change flights. My book had given me something to do during the countless hours in the air, though admittedly, Collin had been my largest savior from boredom. The two of us had ended up talking for over half the flight, and by the time we finally landed, I was even starting to consider...

2 years ago
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Thelma and Me Summer of 65 part 2

After tea on the Friday evening Thelma stopped me as I was going into upstairs to my room. Her eyes looked wild and her breathing was heavy. “I’m going to a party,” She said in a low voice, “do you want to watch me getting undressed?” I nodded like a puppet. “Wait in my room…I’ll be up in five minutes.” I skipped up the stairs two at a time! I nervously let myself into my sister’s bedroom. I’d been in many times before – borrowing her dirty knickers and stuff to use...

4 years ago
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ETHELS DISCOMFORT 4

Harry and Rob sat in the local pub in their usual spot in the corner by themselves. They were having a discussion about what to do with Ethel. Rob has been adamant that he wants to hang Ethel by her ankles and butcher her. Harry strongly disagrees with him. Harry is convinced that if he talks to Ethel he can persuade her not to go to the authorities and they will be able to use her the same way the other men. Rob agrees to try Harry's way first but he says" if she wants to argue I'm going to...

4 years ago
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ETHELS DISCOMFORT 3

kEthel sat with her tits nailed to the work table. Her tits were swollen to twice their normal size from the beating they had received from Harry and Rob and the axe handle. Ethel sobbed both from the pain and the feeling of despair and hopelessness. She knew she would not be able to sweet talk the men into letting her go without anymore abuse. Harry and Rob arrived and again Ethel begged and pleaded with them to let her go. The men laughed and told her they still had a few more things they...

1 year ago
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Thelma and her brother

Note : This story is completely fictional!In nineteen forty six Thelma Lou Anderson was married with three kids. Linda was the oldest. She was sixteen. Guy and George was ten and Guy seven. Thelma owned a beauty shop in Kansas City. She suspected her husband Lawerance was cheating on her again. She followed him one day when he thought she was at work and saw him go into a house. A woman opened the door and he went in. That was all the proof she needed. She went home and packed her suitcase and...

Incest
2 years ago
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Thelma and me Summer of 65 part 1

Thelma was 22 and like all of the young women at that time was still living at home with me and our parents in rural Kent; even though she had a good job in local Department Store. I was 15 and had just left school. The summer of 1965 was particularly fine so it wasn’t uncommon for me to sit around our secluded garden reading a Detective novel when my parents were at work. The difference today was that Thelma was on the first day of her annual holidays and had joined me wearing a very...

3 years ago
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ETHELS DISCOMFORT 2

Ethel hung by her wrists while Harry and Rob left to get some rest. She nodded off from time to time but the fog of her mind cleared she realized that other than when they punched her she actually enjoyed the way they that fucked her so hard and so brutally. She enjoyed the helpless feeling as they ravaged her body. She believed that she could talk to the two men and they would release her without too much more abuse. She was wrong.As Harry and Rob drove back out to the warehouse they talked...

3 years ago
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Ethel

Ethel hated her name. She was born during the tenure of I Love Lucy. The beloved Ethel Mertz from the television show was the bane of the real life Ethel's existence. There were the jokes about her having to marry Fred. There was only one Fred in her high school class. He wasn't her type; not even if he was the last man on earth. Ethel was every bit the epitome of her name. At five feet even her looks, dress and vocabulary mimicked the character she despised. Although she fought to break the...

4 years ago
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Ethel 1921

Ethel's Pa was telling a story. "A man comes into the garage wanting a new horn for his Dodge. The old bulb was torn. Well, we have horns; but they don't fit his brackets..." "What did he want with a horn?" Ma asked. "Dodge cars don't need them. They have 'Dodge, Brothers' written clearly on the front." "Oh, Nellie," Pa said, but -- at least -- he dropped the story. Ethel couldn't decide which was worse, Ma's jokes or Pa's stories. Pa was fascinated by anything mechanical,...

3 years ago
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Katherines Style

Damn Katherine and her classy fashion sense... Once again my Mother-in-law had a new skirt suit which would work for brunch, mother-of-the-bride or some other fancy occasion, it was simply lovely. Tonight was one of those other occasions. The suit was perfect for the work awards dinner that my wife Veronica has dragged me too. Katherine, on the other hand, who was looking just so, was all too happy to attend. Katherine's suit is simply irresistible to me. The color, the style,...

2 years ago
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Gunther The Reindeer Handler Does Candy Claus

Let me say right up front that Gunther was definitely not a young man.I knew he had been around the Santa operation at the North Pole long before I arrived with my bright ideas for cost reduction. I was called in to promote increased toy production by the easily distracted Elves. Those little imps preferred being silly rather than busy little workers focused on their quotas like dedicated employees. As a small-sized human male, I was able to relate easily to the female Elves because they liked...

Fantasy & Sci-Fi
3 years ago
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Absinthe Seduction

from my supernatural~romantic novel set in Regency England from the diary of Betsy Corning, Darlington, England, September 1815 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I am undone! I have given into temptation and trod the left-hand path. I did not tarry there long, I yet have a semblance of a conscience. But little good will it do me – I will be punished for it sooner or later. But oh, should any ladies read this, perhaps you, at least, will understand what provocation I had endured and grant me some...

4 years ago
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EstherChapter 3

When we entered the dining salon, all conversation stopped. I had changed from my travel clothes earlier, but was still in black. Esther was in a peach colored evening gown. As I said before, she was ravishing. Martha and Hatty walked behind us in their evening gowns. It was plain that everyone wondered who this girl was with the Royal Executioner and the Guild Master for companions. Certainly most of the apprentices and the other Guild members had not met, or been introduced to Esther. None...

2 years ago
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EstherChapter 2

“Are the statements, that the Lord Executioner made, true?” the Village Chief demanded sternly. “Yes, Un ... Uncle,” the young man finally answered very quietly. “A week in the stocks,” the Village Chief pronounced, “and the same for those two friends of yours.” The Village Chief then turned to me to apologize. “I am sorry I doubted you, Lord Executioner. It would appear that I need to pay closer attention to what is going on with the workers in the fields.” “An excellent idea,” I replied,...

1 year ago
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Theresas Deportment

"Language Theresa!" "But Mrs. Bradshaw, I only said..." "Hush Theresa, I will not have such rude vernacular spoken in my boarding house! Also, kindly remove your elbows from the tabletop. More over, the fork was placed on the left side of your plate for a specific reason." Theresa blushed as she looked around at the other five girls, some of them putting on airs. "I never ate before with my left hand Mrs. Bradshaw." "You are a student now in the most prestigious Ladies College in...

2 years ago
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Esther III

Esther III ? by: TamarainRubber Even though we knew we were going to be late for Lisa's party, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. For the next hour or so we grabbed each other like wild cats in heat. Her breasts heaving and her lungs gasping for oxygen, Esther still found the energy to warn me not to cum. At some point she did pull my cock out from behind my rubber bloomers and shoved every inch into her mouth. The clothes she had dressed me in only made me harder and,...

4 years ago
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Katherines Style Part Two

The next day I was in full Katherine mode from the moment I unlocked her door. I greeted Sunshine just like Katherine did, using the same tone of voice and gestures. Of course Sunshine reacted just she would with her female owner. As soon as I took her for a short walk and fed her, I went straight to my bedroom, well after the prior day I felt so much more comfortable there, I wanted it to be my bedroom. I took a shower and shaved everything again. I didn't know how I was going to...

2 years ago
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Esther IV

Hope you like Esther's latest installment! ESTHER FOUR By TamarainRubber I obediently followed Esther down the long narrow hallway that led into an enormous room filled with the sounds of clinking glasses, soft whispers and a bevy of leather-clad women and men dolled up as maids, rubber babies, and crossdressing sluts like me. Strangely enough (and very much to my pleasure), there was little if any evidence of the S&M parties I had only read about, but never...

2 years ago
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Fiance Life at HubbardChapter 7

The one thing Julie really didn't like about being a woman was her period. Oh, the rational part of her brain knew why she had them, but it was messy and awkward, especially at work. They might go bare from the waist down, but at 'that time of the month' the women wore panties. At least she didn't get cramps. She did feel all of the other side-effects, but she'd never had cramps. Julie woke up feeling heavy and bloated. She sighed, and dug the box of tampons out from under the bathroom...

3 years ago
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Katherines Style Part 3

The front door opened and again Frank came in, a little less dramatically than the day before but no less intimidating to me as I felt timid and weak dressed in my mother-in-laws things. Frank was half expecting me to be dressed as my normal slouchy male self, ready to put a stop to all this, but he was happy when he saw I didn't have the fortitude to do that. He actually smiled at me, "There's my little wife. That dress looks nice on you." I smiled back not knowing what to do, it...

1 year ago
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Vanna Bardot 100 261000

Vanna Bardot was born in Denver, Colorado, on March 2nd, 1996. As a ballet dancer, Vanna has always had sex in her veins. Technically, ballet is a form of dance, but in all reality, it's fuck training. It tones the body, stretches the muscles, firms the ass, teaches rhythm, and comes with a leotard. I can't think of a better way to train for fucking that doesn't involve actual fucking.Whatcha Gunna Do When They Cum For You?As to be expected, Vanna was a bad girl throughout her middle and high...

Twitter Porn Accounts
4 years ago
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Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder

Caroline dumped her books so loudly on the table that it caused Mike to look up momentarily from his laptop.“Hi, Caroline, I take it the tutorial didn’t go so well?”Caroline slumped onto the chair opposite him.“The pompous bitch basically told me to start again.”“Look I know nothing about art, I don’t even know what I like, but I do know that you know your stuff. Why don’t I get you a drink and we can talk about something else.”As Mike placed the two pints of beer down on the table, Caroline...

Fantasy & Sci-Fi
3 years ago
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Esther stone

Esther sat on the side of the road, freezing, she feared that if she didn't find a place to stay soon, she probably freeze to death.Lately life had been pretty fucked up for Esther, both her parents had die before she could barley talk, and this year she had run away, because her foster parents were abusive.She had no one now, and was stranded on the side of the road. Esther picked herself off of the ground and started walking again, until a huge house came in sight. "Warmth." She said, she was...

2 years ago
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Esther Stone part 2

When Esther had woken up the next morning laying next to Romeo, she almost freaked out, but the all of the memories from the night before flooded into her brain."Oh god." She sat up and looked at Romeo's sleeping figure next to her, his teal hair was tossed about the pillow, and he chest heaved up and down, Damn he is so hot, she thought, I acted kind of crazy last night, her face burned, ugh, what the fuck was wrong with her these days? She felt Romeo's body shift a little and her heart sped...

4 years ago
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Esther II

Esther II By TamarainRubber I had found the woman I had been dreaming about, hoping she would be my lover for years to come. Esther was the first real lady I had encountered who actually seemed to be honest about wanting to share my passions. I prayed that I would not be disappointed. From how she reacted, I didn't think I would be, but I was the planet's biggest skeptic. For the past four hours, Esther made me try on an incredibly sexy collection of female fetish wear that...

4 years ago
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Athena Goddess of Wisdom

Chapter 1 – The Birth of a Goddess Zeke cracked his knuckles and spread out his fingers. They touched the black glass in front of him and the desk lit up. A white keyboard appeared and he started to type on the touchscreen desktop. His fingers bounced around the screen, typing across the keyboard of light. You see, Zeke was a genius beyond his years. He was currently eighteen and in his second year of college. His masterful mind crossed with a youth of video games made him into one of the...

1 year ago
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Theresas Deportment

"Language Theresa!" "But Mrs. Bradshaw, I only said. ..." "Hush Theresa, I will not have such rude vernacular spoken in my boarding house! Also, kindly remove your elbows from the tabletop. More over, the fork was placed on the left side of your plate for a specific reason." Theresa blushed as she looked around at the other five girls, some of them putting on airs. "I never ate before with my left hand Mrs. Bradshaw." "You are a student now in the most prestigious Ladies College in this country...

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