Vic Man
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Brant, not being overly perceptive, did not pick up the implied insult to his manhood. "Want some cream, Brant?" asked Andrew, his face very red with suppressed amusement. "Yes thank you." And so the days went by. When Andrew and I weren't having tea with Brant and baiting him into making a fool of himself, we were sneaking off into some remote corner of the property so I could suck him off. I'm not proud of it, but my forced engagement to Brant brought out the she-demon in me. The night of my engagement party found me in something close to a rage. It was a warm summer evening and the air was heavy with the cloying scent of jasmine, assorted perfumes, and the sweat tang of hundreds of dancers. Brant was capering around the ballroom, trailing more