Again, I started to believe that despite our awkwardness, Melody and I would be alright in the long run.When it was time to leave, I briefly toyed wit... the idea of going back upstairs to work. But just when I was about to make that announcement and leave the group, Melody slipped her hand into mine and leaned over to say, "We're going back to your place." It was not a request.I glanced down, seeing her baby brown eyes hard-edged ... not with desire, but with determination. I nodded in. I smell myself on him as I lean in closer, my juices still glistening on his day old stubble. His eyes are half shut, and his cock lies resting peacefully in a pool of cum against his stomach, twitching occasionally as it recovers. The crisp white sheets are sodden, my carefully applied make-up smudged around my eyes and lips. All that effort to end up looking and smelling like a whore in heat. I can smell the fresh sex as I lie back, a contented grin on my face. I look over at him. The man. I was tired, drained and sad to be going, but knew that I still had a life to go back to. I was intoxicated with this man, my master, I had surrendered myself to him, let him humiliate me in public, abused me, spat on me, pissed on and in me, shared me with his brothers and gave in so much that he was able to put his hole arm inside me. I was in shock, love, and slavery to this hunk of a man. He had chosen me and I had accepted it, apart from going home!We put the suitcase in the car, and he. He grabbed it and set it on the bed, then looked to the window. No wonder he was freezing, the window was wide open. He stepped to the window, shut it, made sure it was secure and laid back down to rest. Once again, sleep overtook him. Waking at the break of dawn, he leaned up and stretched, stifling a yawn as he did so. He stood up and stopped abruptly, he slowly lowered his hand to his groin, feeling the grainy textures of dried semen. He had not had a wet dream for years, he was.