Until one day, I thrust my index finger into my rectum and imagined myself dominated by all those who had flaunted their large male members. Even then... though, my killing thoughts lingered. I swore when I went off to college I would come back and kill him in the evening hours, my trusty green car battering the life out of him as I spun my tires away back to Maryland, awaiting a call that my friend had been killed, by a stranger no less. But I didn't. I stayed my killing hand. I turned my. I tried to move with him, to prolong his touch. He chuckled at me.There was a sound like he had pushed the other man towards me.“Go on then,” my master ordered, “Fuck my girl.”A different set of sturdy hands grabbed me by the hips and pulled me to the edge of the bed. My legs dangled, helpless.I couldn’t help my manic grin. I loved feeling this helpless. I loved knowing my master was jerking off to seeing me like this. Even though I couldn’t see, I knew he was. I could hear the faint sound of. The scents of sweat, sex and sensuality filled air with a blue electricity. We joined again entwined in a hug, the kind of hug that feels stronger than steel our lips in a relentless pursuit to consume one another. The heat of our passion, reflected like light dancing on water, bouncing off one body and back to the other. Our hands could not go fast enough, nor slow enough to drink in the velvet softness of the flesh. The final disrobing was a slow deliberate loving act.My trembling fingers,. Rachel was no exception.A typical conversation would go something like this:"I just sold ABC ten thousand Mark 16B widgets and they have to have them by the first of the month." Sorry Rachel, the line is set up for the Mark 10As right now. It will be the tenth before I can run the 16Bs." But the customer will cancel if he doesn't get them by the first." Sorry, nothing I can do. You get a copy of the production schedule every week so you should know where we are."She would lose the commission.