I couldn't believe it but the thought of being used again was starting to have the same affect it had each of the last two times. My cock was starting...to get hard again at the thought of being used. What was the point in pretending otherwise? I was a slut, I knew it, the men watching knew it. Jim standing before me, hands on his hips and a smirk on his lips knew it. Looking up and in to his eyes I said with more feeling, "Please Sir, I am a faggot, I am a slut. Please Sir, let me suck your. " No, I'm serious," I said.A few weeks later she offered to cut my hair again and I agreed but only if she took her top and bra off first; after a few giggles she did. After that she would take her top off with out being told and I would sit there in heaven while she trimmed me.After about the forth or five time she had cut my hair we were at her mother's house alone and she suggested that my hair needed trimming as we out that night."Ok," I said, "go and get your scissors then."I pulled out a. More

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