She was the only girl who was close to me, always cared about me and helped me when I was in trouble. But unlike many girls, she was sort of a bad ass...type and used to ride a Royal Enfield. I always felt a bit embarrassed to sit behind her while she was riding.The thing that I enjoyed was that I get to rub my cock against her ass while she was riding. She did have a boyfriend outside college and they were in a pretty serious relationship and he used to fuck her at least once in two weeks. One. It was like a 700-dollar coat. Really nice.”“That’s fucked up.”“I know. I feel bad about it now. But, what can I say? You live and you learn…” There was much more: She described a list of crimes she had conspired upon and committed with these two dudes, one of him had been her boyfriend for years; she lived with him at the time. She said they made a lot of money through identity theft - they created credit accounts using the Social Security numbers of dead people… They had boosted cars, they. I can feel my voice box tighten, ready to take on the raspy quality that comes with ?The Voice?. I watch as her hands tighten their grips on the arms of her chair, her knuckles going white. I stop 3 paces from her chair.?Kneel.? My voice is deep, the word perfectly annunciated.She does not move, so I repeat: ?Kneel.? My voice is even, almost slow. It is not a whisper, it is very conversational with enough conviction to let her know I am in no mood for games. Still, she does not move. . Then leave me on the bed with the door open and should Rob need to use the toilet he would see me tied down and ready. My husband agreed and tied me with my legs spread so wide, I lay back and waited, and waited and waited. I was so wet that I was sure that my juices were running down my thighs. Then I heard someone walking towards the toilet, footsteps stopped at my door, and the I heard the person come in, and close the door behind them, I did'nt say anything but could sense whoever it was.