"I... I like it... the rough stuff. But sometimes the others punish me by not allowing me to be roughed up."She blinked several times, and John saw that some of his sperm had run into her eye. He gave her credit for not rubbing the eye to clear it, and knew she would not only tolerate his fisting of her cunt, but would relish it.John methodically maneuvered three fingers into her pussy. "You ever fuck a horse, or a donkey?" he asked mirthlessly."N... No," she sighed, "You want me too?" and hunched her hips upward to meet his fingers."No, I don't. But ask me to fist your cunt."For emphasis, John slapped her cunt twice in succession, and then a third time, but this time his palm came down hard on Martina's aching clitoris."Ahhhh!" she moaned.Then she was begging him. "Fist me please! Pease, fist my cunt!"John reached between her legs and pinched the small nub of her clit, along with a parcel of wrinkled flesh around it. He pulled hard, eliciting a loud sob from Martina's dry vocal. I stood in front of the mirror practicing my hand gestures. Girls talkedmuch more with their hands than boys and were more expressive about howthey felt and what they wanted to say.I walked around the house for probably the next hour trying to trainmyself to move and act like a girl and I was loving it. I grabbed mypurse with the short strap and put it over my arm and held it at theelbow like I'd seen girls do. I stood in front of the mirror, my wristlimp, talking to myself, trying to raise my voice to sound more like agirl, about how pretty I looked and how much of a sissy I was, smilingand laughing at myself.As I was lost in my girly moment the doorbell rang. I thought it wasprobably Ben coming back to give me more shit, but when I looked at themonitor I saw it was Emma, Mike's girlfriend, standing there with threehuge bags.She pressed the intercom button. "Hey Andy, it's Emma. I talked to yourMom and she told me about Ashley."Now Emma was what most people would consider the.
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