Then the small smile around his tender lips and the long dark, curly hair. It was obvious that he was older but his eyes told everything. They exchan...ed numbers after talking briefly drinking our coffees. He called a couple days later and the rest was history. She didn’t know it at the time but he was well known in his line of work. A top business executive that could intimidate anyone. As a much younger female, he loved sporting her around. He always had to comment on how beautiful she was. He then started repeating it, in-out, in-out. He also resumed massaging my clit with his thumbs. He knew I was awake and he was still going for it. Now I knew his resolve, so I pretended to resist a little, without much force. I pushed my hand inside my pajamas, inside my panties on top of his hand and pushed it aside softly.As I had hoped, he overcame my weak resistance and kept fingering me while massaging my clit with his thumb. He must’ve felt as if he was controlling me. His fingering. He just didn't have it in him to forgive her just yet for this. Maybe he could over time, but not right now. Not while it was so fresh and he was still learning what her cheating was going to cost him.As she winded down Dusty moved her to the couch and sat next to her.He told her that he was going to be moving out soon, that they just weren't going to work out. He didn't really want to tell her like this, but he couldn't wait and go on giving her any false hope that they might work this. Every time I go to the lavatory I think of Master! How romantic? But when you are a slave you no longer have secrets, no longer have your own body, no longer have modesty. You learn to recognise the crude biological facts as they really are, accepting what a slave is with honesty. My bowels are now subject to His needs and that means my arse must be ready at all times for Him. I crouch and defecate through bruised lips that throb with pleasure. I don’t wipe my arse with paper lest I scratch it..