Even so I wonder what She must think, Her being a glamorous Goddess, and what must I look like – a timid, nervous inadequate perv in his ‘dirty’...mac, all done up on a hot June day, my flat cap which I don’t take off, wank-trousers with my mac hiding the stains, goggle-glasses, and already mumbling nervously in reply to Her friendly chatter. The next few minutes rush by, with me handing Her my worship sheets, a ‘mag-cover’ (Her pic with my mag title, usually ‘Spunk Queen’, and pervy captions), a. I’m sure Daddy wanted me to go with him so that I could give him a sample of my skills. His car was unappealing. I didn’t care to see evidence that he was a person. His gym bag. CDs showcasing his taste in bad music. It pulled me out from my fantasy, which didn’t include interludes of humanity. To overcome this feeling, I reached for his cock, giving him that same sultry look I learned from posing for Daddy. He was thick and hard. He reached over to me and I cocked my legs open for him. More

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