. every time you refer to me as master, and every time you refer to yourself as my slave, I cringe inside. If you want to be with me, those two words ...re keeping it from happening.”The hurt in her eyes whenever I corrected her, in the slightest way, was so profound that it caused me pain. It wasn’t in my makeup to treat a woman as a thing. You could forget about me using one for a punching bag or someone to hurl verbal abuse upon. I have always loved women. Women gave me the best memories in. ..ok, yes I do love to brag on my beautiful husband, but anyway, he is amazingly sexy. Mid-fifties, although he can and does often pass for early forties. He is bald, mostly due to my request to keep his beautiful tan head shaved. Perfectly piercing amber eyes that are always smiling and which are the perfect expression of his genuine kindness. Six feet plus a little, a hundred and seventy lean pounds of beautiful man. Muscular legs and arms, flat tummy with just a hint of cut between his abs,. I looked a mess but also really cute in a weird way. My short blondhair was tussled and scruffy and my eyes were puffy. My mouth felt likecarpet so I reached for my toothbrush and started to try and get the tasteout of my mouth. As I brushed vigorously my breasts jiggled and swung frommy chest in time with my brushing. It was distracting at first so I variedmy speed from fast to slow and back again so see if it made a difference.They were almost pulling me off balance. I reached up with my. "Down on your hands and knees Kami," I said, "I want to watch him do the dog!" She got down on the floor and I took her place on the couch, legs spread over the arms of the chair to provide my hubby with a little visual jump-start. "Turn to the side so I can see the action!" I said. My husband kneeled down behind her and rubbed his rock-hard cock up and down the slit of her pussy to lubricate it. She was tiny, and I was guessing it would take a few minutes for her to warm up so he could.