)That one night wasn't the end of it, of course. "Dancing with the bottle" -- really, me fucking myself with it -- became a special part of our lovema...ing. Once a week, maybe. Then one day, sitting in the corner of his room, was a bottle of chianti. A very tall bottle of chianti. Ohboy, I can guess what this is for. I wondered if it would actually work. So I walked over to it just to check the, uh, height. It was just about right, even when I had flat shoes on, several inches below the, uh,. There were few customers, a couple of teenager girls and a woman in her forties. The only sales associate was a short young girl. She looked friendly, but not too intrusive. She did notice me and gave a welcoming smile, but did not draw attention to me by greeting loudly. She was mostly busy checking something at desk computer and adjusting clothes on racks. As I strolled around in the store, I happened to walk around to where she was standing. I was checking out some dresses, when she asked me. I had no choice but gulp it down or choke on it. "What the fuck is going on?" she yelled. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to hide or say something. I must have looked pretty pitiful to her. "I can't believe what I'm seeing." I swallowed what was left of the thick, creamy jism in my mouth. My softening cock slipped out. "I leave for one week and come back, to find you sucking yourself off? How is that even physically possible?" "Didn't it look physically possible?" "I'm not good enough for. However, what Michael said came up again. "Michael said my bond with you is unique, to his knowledge. I have manipulated you into wanting to stay with me."Chloe shook her head. "I don't care. You're not letting me go." It was the most selfish thing she had said in quite some time. I knew some had been clingy before I bound to them, but the bonds seemed to amplify the others' need to hold onto me.Wait, Michael's memories said that the bond increased the desire for the Schiavi to want to be with.