This, of course, made me horny, and it took all of my willpower to stop fondling myself. Instead, I turned the water up again, this time a half turn m...re of the cold. Not really freezing, but not comfortable either. Once my hair and skin were free of soap, I turned the shower head to massage mode, one single, hard jet of water, and pointed it between my legs with one hand while opening my sex with the other. It was almost painful, but I forced myself to count down from ten before turning off. But over these weeks of having a lot of sex and writing stories about it, we’ve really come along way (couldn’t resist the pun). Every time we have sex it’s a little different, a little saucier, and a little sexier: sometimes because it’s naughtier, sometimes because it’s gentler, and always because it’s starting to feel completely unscripted. By writing these sex stories, I figure out what I like, what I want more of, what rocks my housewifely world. And the Caveman seems to really be getting. All I could manage was to shake my head slowly as my nails and hairgrew. Also during this time, Sasha left and returned with a syringe, sheinformed me that it was filled with a much larger dose of the same nerveagent that was in the wine because as she put it, "I wouldn't want mynew model to get antsy and try to up and leave before he or should I sayshe is ready, now would I."Both women giggled over this last statement. Sasha also informed me thatnot only did the syringe contain the nerve. ”I looked her over and touched a few places which tickled her. “Here, let me show you how to make it feel good for me and not tickle.” That lesson went well for a few minutes, then, “Drop your drawers so I can make you feel good.” She fondled my steel rod and then bent over and damn near swallowed it. My prostate let go and she giggled as well as you can with a mouthful of shaft and semen. “Mom didn’t say I couldn’t do that. I’ll show you how to use your tongue on me when I’ve cleaned up.”She.