My boyfriend showed me how with a hot dog.”“I see. How much of the hot dog did you take?”“Oh! All of it. He even pushed it down my throat.”�...�Really! Then you just might do well with my nine-inch cock.”“Nine inches!”“Yes. It won’t be much more difficult than a hot dog.”Michelle had been kissing me and stroking my cock until it was hard. I was going to enjoy taking little Michelle. I thought, “By the time she leaves in the morning, she’s going to be well fucked.”“Mmm. Your cock is really hard!”. That had been deliberate on my part. If you don't know what to do with a girl, the best thing to do with her is nothing.We had the White Sox, then the Twins, and then Detroit before we would be back in Baltimore for a lengthy series of games at home before the All-Star break. I hadn't gotten the call to pitch in several days, but it didn't worry me because I recognized that the unique circumstances that had to arise in a game before Paul Warren wanted me in there just hadn't arisen.I was. “Kiss it.”I did. I didn’t know what to expect. I opened my mouth and took in the tip. It had a fleshy texture but tasted like a salty rubber band. I began running my tongue around it and sucking on it.I was only allowed to suck on it at my own pace for about 3 minutes. It was then my captor took a handful of wig hair from the back of my head and held me while he pushed ¾ of his dick down my throat. I gagged. He pulled out and did it again this time holding my head so I continued to gag on. No matter how much I did for her or how much I gave her, it wasn't enough. She could always think of something I could have done. And she constantly bitched about her job. That pissed me off as much as anything she did. Joe Stein and I had been friends for years. He'd been my classmate in law school. I knew that Joe was good people -- salt of the earth. But Paddi-Ann constantly badmouthed him. According to her, he was taking advantage of her, working her much too hard and giving her no credit.I.