Once again, I was thinking in terms of Dianna fucking men, not other men. What was happening to my self-image? I had only to look in the mirror behind...the bar to answer that question. I gazed at the reflection — my reflection - dressed all in lavender suede and sheer black blouse with a full, fluffy head of blonde hair and overdone makeup. It wasn't like I had gone down kicking and screaming, either. How could I possibly still think of myself as a man?Just let go... I squeezed her hand. Joan looked at their burgeoning erections and smiled. Joan started caressing herself, fondling her breasts. She asked me to take off her jewelry. I did. Her corset had a string of pearl buttons down the front. She asked me to undo two buttons. When I did, the top of her breasts were exposed. She ran her hands over her breasts and moaned. I started kissing her neck. Then she asked me to take off her shoes. I knelt in front of her and raised each foot and took the shoes off. When she raised her. More

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