”We click glasses, and we each take a drink, and set the goblets off to the side.He pulled me close and kisses me passionately while our tongues do ...he dance of lovers. His fingers slowly caress my wanting body making me shutter in response. His lips, voice and touch turns me on more as he sets my skin ablaze with desire. I rub the small of his back with my left hand and feel him quivering with anticipation. I then reach for his hardening cock, nestled against my thigh and purr, “Oh John, I. Fires didn’t usually shake him like this, but the emotions were high for the crew with this one. The water pounded down his back as he slammed his fist into the tile on the wall. DJ’s head hurt to think about it, and he was exhausted. Last night’s fire was harder on him than most and he just wanted to wash it all away but knew he couldn’t. He shut the water off with more force than necessary and shoved the shower curtain aside. He hoped a cup of coffee would help him start a normal day. DJ. I chased away the image of Jess’s and Larry’s last thirty percent away. Actually, we did sleep like babies until way past sunrise the next day.Postscript:Two weeks later, while we were driving back home from an event, Jessica asked, “Greg, you never mentioned the gift Larry gave us. I was supposed to wear it that night, for you.”“Yeah,” I said. “I forgot all about it. I don’t think I’d want to see you model it. Where did it go?”She answered, “It is in my hope chest.”I pulled over and parked in. I sometimes have a picture of him in my mind when He is 70, tanned and grinning with a sparkle in his eye holding my hand in a beach bar somewhere warm and knowing that his wife has been wearing his chains for over 30 years. I can submit control fully because I trust that He will protect our vanilla identities carefully at all times even when sharing me with others, virtually with images and video footage of me and email exchanges or physically in sessions. > > I am not a slave. Slaves are not.