A feminized basket ball player

It wasn’t very long afterwards that Jack arrived. I heard the latch on the gate jiggle, and fought the urge to run to the house and cover myself. I did not know which was worse, to be discovered by Jack in this humiliating position, or to move and risk the possibility that my wife would make good on her threat. I figured that Jack was, after all, only one person, and only a boy at that. I could deny it if I had to, and pretend as though Jack had made the whole thing up. “What the fuck. ” I heard Jack say in his young, thick, masculine drawl. “Mr. Ross, what is going on here? Is this a bad time, should I come back later?” A sweet kid, I thought, despite his reputation. He had probably seen far worse things while growing up.

“Yes, Jack, this is a therapeutic process I have to endure for an old sports injury.” I lied, my face pressed to the chair, my ass still sticking up like a sissy, slut. “It’s very embarrassing, I hope this could just stay between the two of us. Tell you what, it must have been an inconvenience for you to come all the way over here. I’ll pay you for today, and just come back next week.” I was not deluding myself that he would believe me, but if I could get rid of him quickly I might have a chance to buy him off later. I would double the amount I usually paid him, and the two of us could have a heart to heart talk about it when I was dressed more appropriately.