Bi-Sexual Male / 38
It Is Hard Accepting That You Are The Pussy And He Is The Stud
It happened again. This time I was in Buenos Aires and I went to this nearby family restaurant for an early dinner. The place was empty except for me and a man walked in with a newspaper and sat down across from me. He looked alone, and I got up and offered for him to join me, so we both wouldn't eat alone.
The man, a banker, was very polished and obviously very well educated and he quickly had me on the defensive. My opinions were shot down, one after the other, it was clear that what I thought I hadn't put together. He was nice, overbearing, very self assured. As he talked to me, he put his hand on my hand and it stayed like that. His warm hand on mine. When we were done he offered to invite me to his apartment for an evening drink on his patio with a view of the river.
It was a dance, he was nice and oppressive and I was defensive and scared. He offered, in a nice gentlemanly way, to share intimacy with me. He said I looked like I needed a man and right then he was the man I was looking for. And he was looking for a man to be a woman for him. And I looked just like the man who could be woman.
The kissing and caressing went on for a while, turns taken to pay close attention to our genitals, he maintained quite a hard on, stabbing at me with it, letting me know in his not so subtle way that he was going to penetrate me with it. He lubed me up generously, and he penetrated me. I felt like a she dog under him, while he pounded away inside me. I spent a few minutes thinking of myself as woman, fully penetrated and tried unsuccessfully to generate an erection. He finished and laid back with a satisfied look on his face and told me to straddle him and jerk off on his face.
it happened again, I can't help it. Any man force I try to bring to the table is overcome by his man force over me.
The man, a banker, was very polished and obviously very well educated and he quickly had me on the defensive. My opinions were shot down, one after the other, it was clear that what I thought I hadn't put together. He was nice, overbearing, very self assured. As he talked to me, he put his hand on my hand and it stayed like that. His warm hand on mine. When we were done he offered to invite me to his apartment for an evening drink on his patio with a view of the river.
It was a dance, he was nice and oppressive and I was defensive and scared. He offered, in a nice gentlemanly way, to share intimacy with me. He said I looked like I needed a man and right then he was the man I was looking for. And he was looking for a man to be a woman for him. And I looked just like the man who could be woman.
The kissing and caressing went on for a while, turns taken to pay close attention to our genitals, he maintained quite a hard on, stabbing at me with it, letting me know in his not so subtle way that he was going to penetrate me with it. He lubed me up generously, and he penetrated me. I felt like a she dog under him, while he pounded away inside me. I spent a few minutes thinking of myself as woman, fully penetrated and tried unsuccessfully to generate an erection. He finished and laid back with a satisfied look on his face and told me to straddle him and jerk off on his face.
it happened again, I can't help it. Any man force I try to bring to the table is overcome by his man force over me.
