I sat on the bed, and viewed the marvel before me, close enough to reach out and touch. A sweet oval face, framed by long blonde hair. Long blonde eyelashes too, around massive pale blue eyes, sparking with life and personality. A button nose. Thick, pink, kissable lips. Moving down, a slender neck, high collarbones, and oh, such breasts! Large – maybe the size of grapefruit – and perfectly shaped, hanging deliciously from a pale chest.
Further down, a smooth belly, tapered to a narrow waist, with the slightest wisps of the longest golden locks poking out to either side. Then wide, flared, feminine hips.
And just at the meeting of long, lithe, shapely legs, a proud, erect penis, mirroring mine a few feet away from it. Hanging just below the engorged member, the unmistakeable wrinkled skin of a scrotum, slightly distended by the testicles it contained.
I looked back up, from those male genitals, across the perfect feminine body, to those shining eyes. I saw the hope and fear at war there, the desperation, the entreaty. And I made my decision.


