It was only now that I noticed I stood there like a little boy, looking at the ground, with my hands next to my body when I confessed to Marit. Damn, ...hat am I to do. When my wife finds out I am dead, but on the other hand when I obey, where will it lead. It was not only my heart pounding, my cock was also harder than it ever was. I have to buy time and find a way out of this I thought and started typing: Dear Mistress, Yes, I want to be dominated by You. I need to be corrected by You and I. A few weeks in I clocked movement and eventually worked out it was an early 40's lady with long hair. I couldn't work out which room was facing me because she seemed to race in and out. One night she just appeared topless or could have been naked, I could only see waist up. She strode out casually thrusting her massive rack in front of her. The lighting was dimmed so I couldn't make out her nipples. I could see enough to know that she had held up well to the ravages of time. She walked. Each stroke of his cock in her mouth had filled a part of her with a hunger, a desire to feel it in other places. Her thoughts waged a war inside her as she starred at his saliva soaked still pulsing manhood.The reprieve was brief as he once again grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her behind him until she was standing in front of the table that she had seen earlier. He bent her forward over the table and kicked her legs apart. ?Keep still.? He demanded as he kneeled. "Come to think of it, there might be something..." ... and so, that's pretty much the way it is."Mick had been explaining the ins and outs of gay sex. Al was surprised to learn that many gays didn't practice anal penetration at all, and that there were so many alternate modalities of physical affection between men. But none of those particularly interested him. He was obsessed with ass-fucking. Nothing else."You're what's called a butthole surfer," Mick said. "We run into quite a few of them..