It was so nice, getting me wet. As he kissed me, I rubbed his cock through his jeans. He stepped back and said “I hope you don't mind," and showed m... a pill. I said ,“No it's okay," and he led me to his bedroom and we lay down. I continued to suck his nice cock till it was rock hard. Then I sucked each of his balls in my mouth as I got his pants off. We took off our shirts. He then returned the favor and went down on me with great skill, making me dripping wet. He crawled between my legs,. Damn, I was going to miss that arse when the weekend was over. Though I wasn't going to miss her attitude, illustrated when she turned and called out: "Come on Gary, put some effort into it, you wuss."Lagging behind painfully, I was regretful at having spent more time in the pub than the gym lately, a sad yet inevitable symptom of the break-up.We cycled for what seemed like forever but was probably less than fifteen minutes before Emily, who was our guide, stopped to take a drink from a water. "Now," I repeated, "tell me you are my sex slave." She cried, but not wanting to be hurt again, began: "I am your sex slave." "Say it with your full name, girl." "I, Jamie Elizabeth Sullivan, am your sex slave." "Say that I own you, girl." "I am the property of you, my new master." I grinned. "Now, Jamie, offer me your breasts." Not wanting to get smacked again, she cupped her tits and thrust themout at me, turning her face away from me in shame. "No, look at me, slave." . Honestly."Bras? He'd used one of my bras? This night was a night for so manyfirsts. I was just trying to acknowledge the CONCEPT of Josh's dressingup in my own mind, when I had to face the reality. My Josh, my husband,had been wearing a bra. My bra. That most feminine of garments. Agarment designed solely for females, to support a most feminine part ofthe female body. A piece of lingerie that helps a woman feel pretty andwomanly. And my Josh had been wearing one. MINE. I think the.