"There was this other voice telling me to walk away, telling me to stop and just walk away, but no, there I was on that fucking desk getting fucked li...e some prostitute." You've always had a weakness when it came to sex," Stephanie said. "It's your nature; you're nympho, face it." A nympho that loves huge fucking cocks, it seems," I slumped back onto the couch.There was silence as the two of us had nothing else to say."Thank you," Stephanie said."For what?" I asked."You know what," Stephanie. So what was wrong with me? Why was I so enthusiastic about all the different guys? Why did I do it without, apparently, finding anything wrong with it?Who said it was wrong?Oh, I know, society.So? Society didn't have to know. Besides, how much of that social baggage was to make sure that when a girl got pregnant, as she would, she knew who the father was, but more important than that, the man knew it was his child.Sex was supposed to be almost holy, sacred, or something. It was all shrouded in. Tasks she set me included wearing panties to sleep in, leaving a butt plug in me, while we chatted and other kinky things.Last night, while we were chatting, I told her I was going to a friend's house with a few of the guys, to play cards and have a few drinks. Her dominant side took over and she told me I must wear panties under my jeans while I was there. Being a good slut, I agreed and picked out a pair of brown and white flowery boy-shorts, put them on under my jeans and then a white loose. My pulse was thumping and my heart rate matched it as I waited andwaited, another glass of wine, I closed my eyes for a second trying toget control of my skyrocketing anxiety. I was roused from my reverie bythe sexiest voice I had ever heard, it was liquid, smooth, sultry, huskylike liquid silk. "So Nathalie, what are we having done today?"As I looked over my shoulder there stood the most incredibly beautifulwoman I had ever seen. "Umm, I umm." The words wouldn't come out, mytongue felt like it.