“Mark, I’m starving. Fine, I think you look absolutely adorable looking all disheveled. I love how you hair sticks out all over the place. You sti...l have dried drool and syrup all around your mouth and sleep in your eyes. You look like a big kid right now and I love it.” “That’s…better. Not exactly the response I was expecting.” “Just being honest, for all you know I could be suffering from Stockholm syndrome and just said those things so you could give me a waffle.” “Are you serious?” a sick. My full attention was on the flexing vice I was burying my cock inside of. I squeezed her ass cheeks and moaned loudly as my balls snuggled up against her dripping pussy lips. My toy was squealing, but I hardly registered that too. I saw her hands coming back toward me, maybe to try and stop me, I didn’t care. I grabbed each of her wrists and pulled my cock half-way out before tugging on her arms and thrusting back inside of her. I felt my balls grow much warmer, at some level noticed my toy’s. She kept pushing me to jog more and more every day. I would be dead tired after our exercise sessions. I simply could not cope up with the workouts and jogs. I was on the verge of giving up. Yogi realized that and she tried to motivate me but since my body could not cope up with the extremely demanding work out regime, I just was not getting motivated.Yogi started becoming close physically, she would shake hands, ruffle my hair and at times hug me. I loved her hugs. I could feel her big boobs. My wife had wanted a larger house, but we couldn’t findone that had the same amenities. We had settled for anaddition at the back. I let myself into the house anddropped my briefcase in the hallway. I could hear musiccoming from the back of the house where I kept my office,which was more a studio than anything else. I was adesign engineer and had moved into computer web pagedesign a few years earlier. It seemed to be the trendything to do. I went through the kitchen and grabbed abeer out.