We chatted a bit about our sexual histories after that. He was divorced and I was single. He had gotten some action once in a while with a FWB woman... but that relationship was fading out. I told him that I had been hetero but might be interested in men again. After a bit we signed off.The next time I logged on, he wasn't there but had left me a note saying the general area where he lived and asking where I was. It turns out that he lives less than two hours drive from me. I wasn't quite. The sound alone sending chills down my spine. "On your knees, on the bed," he ordered and I scrambled as he reached in the box, pulling out a small rope that he used to tie my wrists to the headboard. Then he brought out a black leather riding crop which he gently ran up and down my shoulders, back, butt and legs. I lay on my stomach and bent my knees, feet in the air, as I got wet from the tantalizing strokes on my skin. "Feet down," he said, and I did so until the crop slithered down my spine. On the other hand, maybe there was a "mole" in the system who was confusing the FBI search for John Moran.Unlikely as it seemed, that could be what was keeping the FBI from coming us with their man. Oh, well, we were not bound by such laws, and we could do anything we felt was morally justified. Okay, so we had a name, we still did not have a location. At the moment, all we could do was to keep looking through the papers for other names that stuck out.Liz was the next one to spot a promising. I had luxuriated in the thought of taking care of two married women—getting it done for them. Cathy had said a time or two, “I can’t remember the last time a man did that to me.”Soon, the musk of their readiness began to waft around me. Their wanton moaning, lewd writhing—I found myself getting hard again.The two women rewarded my attention to their pussies by sitting up on the edge of the bed and taking turns sucking on my dick, letting me titty fuck them. I had spent several minutes moving.