“Why do you come here?” He asked.“What do you mean?” Sloane asked.“Why do you come over here to my place?”“Because you tell me to.” Sl...ane stammered, confused.“I don’t own you. At least, not yet.” Jack grinned.Sloane’s pussy quivered at the word ‘YET’.“But, seriously, we live in America. You’re not a slave. You could just delete my phone number. Why do you come here?”“I ... I ... I ... I like what we do...” Sloane continued to stammer, looking for words but not finding any.“You like the things. . I wanked off and shot the most amazing amount of cum ever I have done. I flew out in thick ribbons and hit the mirror on the wall, and then simply dribbled to a stop.I got my balls empty, cock still hard but not hurting. I looked at the suspenders straps, they seem to be stuck firmly on my legs, you could feel they were raised a little but I could not get my fingers under the straps. The rubber stockings were the same, the straps fitted perfectly to the stocking tops were adhered firmly to my. He positioned himself between my legs, and began to rub his hand up and down my legs, each time moving higher up towards my pussy. Suddenly he jumped off the bed and left the room for a second. He came back, a towel in one hand and a whip in another. I smiled devilishly at him, as he blindfolded me with the towel. He went back between my legs and ran the whip up my leg. I squirmed at the ticklish sensation, and giggled. He put the whip down and began massaging my inner thighs gently. I tried. “Me? She’s what, 42, and I’m 23.” “Drew, she doesn’t want a boyfriend. She just wants to get laid. And she’s willing to pay for it.” “Really? How much?” “If you want to do it, that would be up to her and you.” “You don’t mind? I mean, I’m living with you.” “We aren’t screwing, and you’re a healthy young guy. If it wasn’t for Jim I’d screw you.” She laughed heartily. Jim is her boyfriend. “Also, Mrs. Porter said she has friends like her, needing to get laid.” “I…uh…don’t know what to say.”.