She couldn’t believe how the words made her cum. Sometimes she’d spend hours having dirty conversations and fucking her pussy with her toys. She...liked role-playing and found it excited her very much.A few times, her online friends wanted to watch her masturbate. She was a little shy and skittish with doing that. However, one of the younger men she spoke to convinced her to do it. He told her to wear dark shades to conceal her identity.She thought about it and decided to do it. Her husband. The sparsely decorated room had no windows and just a small bunk, achair, wash basin and wc. "Mettere su questi" she grunted as she took thebox from me and pointed at it and then me, before putting it on the bed.Next she grabbed my left arm and produced a metal strap which looked abit like a watch and squeezed its ends together tightly with a loudclick; then with a surprisingly swift movement left the room, locking thedoor behind her.I sat on the bed my mind in a whirl, rubbing my bruised arm. The pub was old and dirty. Its featured colours were brown, brown and more brown, tinted with some light brown. On the door stood a more elderly gentleman, I guessed he was in his late 60's; clearly security was not a major issue at this pub, as he was stood chatting and smoking with a pint of beer in his hand. As I approached him he remained ignorant to my presence, I could have walked straight past him and into the pub and he wouldn't have known any better. The man was deep in conversation. Dr Schmidt seems confused at first, but when the professor asks a question about his upcoming book on Shelley, he warms up and soon they are discussing the finer points of Romantic poetry. Occasionally one needs to have his glass refilled and every time I do so Dr Schmidt can't take his eyes off me and I notice his tongue nervously licking his lips when he sees me kneel. Finally he seems to pluck up his courage."You have your house-staff trained very well, my friend."My heart skips a beat. The.