Will you let me fuck your arse?’ I say, starting to slowly thrust back and forth into Lauren. ‘Ha,’ she laughs. ‘Everybody seems to want to fu...k my arse. And I always say no. It’s for special occasions only.’ ‘This is a special occasion,’ I say, beginning to go faster on her, sweat exuding from my heated skin from the physical exertion. ‘I’m high on coke, and I’m fucking you on a Travelodge bed.’ She laughs again, and I laugh too, accepting that anal is a no-no on this occasion. I lean myself. ‘I was infatuated with her, I don’t know why. Maybe her youthful attention and playfulness blinded me.’ Wow this was all corny and sorry to use the word again, clichéd as it comes.He told me he was miserable almost from day one. They had nothing in common, no shared interests no nothing. He knew he had done wrong, he had been so stupid. He said even her looks weren’t that wonderful when he looked closer, they were more youthful attractiveness than true beauty and he said as he looked at me now. He helped me to my feet.He handed me a white cloth and I wiped my hands and face."Ma'am," he said, when I was through. "I'm going to have to ask you to take some tests." Oh, please," I cried, "please don't make me do that..." I glanced at him. "Can't you just...?" but I couldn't think what to ask for him to do. I wanted so badly to just go home. I thought again about the people driving past us on the road. Everyone in my neighborhood, I thought, uses this road to go home."No ma'am," he said.. His eyes remained downcast, as trained, staring only at the floor -- not permitted to look at Mistress, as he dried her. A perfectly choreographed dance. She lifted her left arm, and his hand was already moving toward her with the towel, to dry her arm, her armpit, down the left side. Blotting every drop of scented water from her skin. She lowered her left arm, and lifted the right one, and her slave was already blotting her forearm, her firm triceps, and down the right side. Suddenly, the.