I feel like a whore. I count to three and with a loud moan I push the plug all the way inside my ass. As soon as it is in, a fresh string a pre-cum ...rips from your cock and falls on to the bed. Knowing I will be punished for dirtying the sheets, I am sure to lick it all up. I realize that there is no way that I will be able to get the gates of hell over your cock while it is dripping and throbbing and hard as a rock. I go into the bathroom, turn on the shower, and thoroughly clean every. We didn’t wait until Friday to get started. Joan had done well packing just a roll-aboard size suitcase for the week. She wore comfy sweats—the same kind I was wearing. Mom, Dad, and Pey were also dressed in sweats, figuring we were all going to stink by the time we reached San Diego, so we might as well at least be comfortable. Joan had never traveled like this and couldn’t understand why we’d drive two-thirds of the way across the country instead of flying. I understood. With five flying it. The whole evening had been a delight to her, as well as a revelation. She had never known that such a broad and overpowering streak of exhibitionism lay dormant inside. The need to show herself, even though she was embarrassed by the display of her nakedness and her passion, was a fresh discovery that made her feel like a girl who was just discovering her sexuality. While part of her wanted to hide, she imagined flinging herself wide open to the view of all, but most especially to her Master. Not that she didn’t wear panties. She did. She wore thongs to keep the center seam of her uniform pants from chafing her pussy lips. The shirt of the uniform stretched quite a bit so she was able to wear one two sizes too small. The buttons strained over her size 36C breasts. She was careful not to sit when she had male customers. The buttons strained rather more than she liked over her belly when she sat. She wore an unlined, satin bra under her shirt. The air conditioning was always set on.