I signed up to a gay dates website, but no luck there, and I went to some local cruising grounds but I was a little nervous, so didn't even get out of my carOver the next few weeks, I carried on going to my local supermarket, and often found myself at the same checkout, which was manned by a young Pakistani guy. He was quite friendly, and we idly chatted as I packed away my shopping. On my next visit, I went to his queue as usual, and as we chatted he quietly asked if I was gay.. My cheeks turned scarlet and I stammered "n...n...n..no," He smiled, and apologised for asking.. As he scanned the next few items, I brushed my hand against his,and said with A smile "but I am bi"I'm never normally wrong, he said, would you like to meet up for a drink sometime? I blushed again, asked for a pen and wrote my number down...and signed it off with two kisses...how gay had I already become?He phoned about two hours later, on his lunch break, and told me to pick him up at 7:30 at a local parade of. Then, slapping the riding-whip repeatedly against her thigh, she walked over to Mr Collins, who was still sniffling on the floor.“Take your clothes off, Collins,” she said calmly, as if instructing her maid to remove the tea tray.“I, I beg your pardon, your Ladyship. Surely you don’t mean…”“Of course I mean it, you nincompoop. Would I say it if I didn’t mean it? Take off your clothes. All of them.”Mr Collins stood up and slowly removed his clerical garments, watched by Lady Catherine, whip twitching in her hand. At last he stood naked in front of her, his hands cupped over his diminutive genitals. Lady Catherine took the riding-whip and cracked it hard against his bare thigh, leaving a long red weal.“Take your hands away, let me see you,” she snapped.Mr Collins obliged. His small member dangled feebly between his legs.Lady Catherine laughed.“Is that all you have to offer?” she snorted. “Poor Miss Lucas. If that to be your contribution to her connubial happiness, maybe she too will.
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