All men have it. That slightly smug, masculine smile that is as distinct as a cat’s purr. He answered me with a soft, ‘Morning,’ before shifting... I had to move so he could do so, the sheets warm against my back, as the sun glared at the two of us. It was spilling through the blinds, illuminating our bodies carefully: a bit of my leg, some of his thigh. His hair was splayed on his pillow, and I took a handful of it in my grasp, curling the dirty blonde strands around my fingers, and then. MistressAlexa then remarked that the name on my license wasn't Prissy-Sissy butthat would soon change to which I just obediently agreed and thankedher. They then reviewed the footage of my solitary training at the handsof the remote butt plug and were very impressed with my enthusiasm withbeing fucked like a sissy slut. They also noticed all the cum that I hadreleased onto the bench and said that I truely am the sissy slut they'dbeen looking for.After that, Mistress Kerri released me from the. As we entered the bedroom, she glanced around, and then asked. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but what happened to your wife?”“Cancer I answered, I didn’t think I’d ever get over it, but our little tryst this morning has given me a new lease on life.”“It has,” she said beaming with excitement.Before I knew what was happening, she pushed me back onto the bed, grabbed my cock and wrapped her warm soft mouth around the end, and then slid down its length until my balls slapped up against her chin.. " Maybe if we could meet them on their own turf, one-on-one, face-to-face, we'd get somewhere. Where do they congregate?" Samantha (never call her "Sam") asked."That's easy. Congregate is the right word," Retta Jones observed. "A lot of them are good church goers -- my church, for example. It's full of 'em, including the pastor." How'd they handle you being in The Program?" Max asked."They didn't. I wore my Sunday go to meetin' best rather than face them naked," she admitted, a bit ashamed..