.. it was... oh it was!Quentin re-filled Julia’s glass... and his own.“Relax girl,” he said condescendingly. “You don’t often get a chance t... do so.”“P-Please... Master... I must w-work.”“Just do as you are told Julia,” said Quentin sternly. “You are still my slave... as well as being that of your Mistress...”Julia sobbed and her head bowed momentarily again. “I... I would never disobey you... M-Master...” she managed to say.Quentin smiled an indulgent smile. Oh joy... oh bliss! Oh how. She then starts to soap up the shaft of my cock then the head of my cock. She then gets on her knees and starts to soap up my leg and inner side of my leg. I look down and can’t help but think about her and wanting her to sock on my cock. She keeps moving down my leg and soaping it. When she gets to my feet, she looks up and can see just how hard she was making me. She senses just what I am thinking and goes up to my hard erection. She slips her mouth over the head of my cock first, then down. During my lifetime I have had sex with both men and women, and got very different rewards with the encounters I had. Sex with men took place in public toilets, and was taboo and thrilling; sex with women was emotionally rewarding, but lacked the thrill of my gay encounters! But going back further, shortly after discovering my ability to orgasm through masturbation, I discovered a teenage kink for cross-dressing.My mother did not have much of a collection of lingerie, and what she possessed. You know the old saying “Look at your fiancée’s mother to see what your fiancée will look like in twenty years.” Well if that saying is true Jill was Exhibit A for why I should marry Betsy! A few more of the small odd things about Betsy were the fact that no one she knew from high school or college was in, or even invited to, our small wedding. Her maid of honor and two bridesmaids were people she worked with or otherwise met after college. Also Betsy seemed to make a big deal about declining.