‘We’re enemies.’ ‘You’re not my enemy,’ he held her face. ‘But our families-‘ she cried, frustrated, so confused with her feelings. �...Fuck our families,’ he kissed her again she kissed him back, than stopped again holding him away, looking straight into his eyes. ‘I dare you to stop!’ she said. ‘You would use it against me?’ he actually looked hurt. ‘I don’t know how else to stop you!’ she cried in frustration, she needed him to stop or she wouldn’t! He looked at her then stepped back, putting. I asked him about it. He smiled and said: "That's what I call a 'milking bench.' "I was intrigued by it. He explained how it worked. I was even more intrigued than ever by what he said about it! I told him about my friend who had told me about him, and what he did with interested guys. He didn't remember my friend. "But I see a lot of men, you see! I probably have milked your friend. I just don't remember."We chatted a little bit more, and then he asked if I was interested in experiencing what. More

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