But shit, let’s go in and scope things out. Then I’ll show you my plans and you can say no if you don’t like it!”Lara leaned close to me. “T...is is either going to be the worst or the best show we’ve ever done.”I laughed. “You never know with Jonah, do you?”Once inside, I was expecting to find a couple of guys with an old Peavey board and a cassette recorder. In the words of a girl I used to know, expectations sure are a bitch, though. My fault, for forgetting who our insane host is.Off to the. As I cook, I can't help but analyze my own feelings. Why do I do this? Ilike the sensation of power, of controlling another human, especially a beautifulwoman, but why put her through these trials, denying her orgasms while teasingher towards them? Upon reflection, I think it's because it's not enough thatI am in control – I need her to realize and acknowledge that I am incontrol. The other side of that reasoning, however, is why she allows it? Perhapsshe enjoys the sensation of losing control,. A car door slammed shut, and Bob became extremely worried. His fear wasn't strong enough to overcome the sensation of Ali's violently jerking crotch sliding against his electrified manhood though.His stiffness began to pulsate---, there was no way of stopping it now! With a little concerted effort, Bob managed to slide his tracksuit bottoms down slightly, just enough to prevent making a mess inside them. Their genitals touched! Ali went rigid and held her breath. She bit her lip so hard that. We had to go toward a slightly larger town to find a diner called The Crossroads Diner. This one happened to be owned and operated by a black man named Joshua who learned to cook during his time in the jail down the road. Like most men who did time in jail, he swore he would never pick up a ladle again, and most didn’t. However Josh didn’t hate cooking, as much as he hated the whole jail experience. His mother helped him get started, and five years after he got out, the Crossroad Diner came.