I watched it go around and around until it stopped. I gave it a shake and popped it back in.The smell of butter started to fill the kitchen as the pop...orn jumped and popped in the bag, I heard the movie start up just as the popcorn had finished. I grabbed a bowl from the cupboard. I filled it to the brim and walked out into the now dark lounge.I sat the bowl on the table and sat down close to Kim. She grabbed the bowl and started eating handfuls of the popcorn as the movie started I noticed. "That you call yourself professional," I answered. She tried to speak but couldn't over the offense I'd evidently spoken. I went on, "You call yourself a professional, but not many professionals would go pantiless when massaging a husband with his wife on the other table and get wet about it..." You had no business even touching there!" as she tried to justify herself. "And most 'female' professionals don't have any business in the mens locker room following a massage. And most professionals. Even after rescuing him, her casual remarks about him having “a good weight” were offered more so to lighten the mood than anything else. Still, she didn’t forget and as the days passed the shape of it plagued the back of her mind. Like some kind of venereal disease. Little by little, those thoughts grew into insurmountable red flags that ate at her precious spare time. She knew she was too logical for the whole choosing thing. How was she supposed to pick a Chosen with everything she had seen?. I blanked for some period of time, and woke up still tied spread eagle face up. She was doing something to my genitals. My insides were in such agony that I couldn't actually feel what she was doing beyond the fact that she was doing something, but apparently she was attaching electrodes to my scrotum. Next she started playing with my dick. No way was I going to respond to that, though any other time she could have given me an erection with this hand job. I'm thirty-eight. Any time an.