“What about your past?” I asked.“Well, it’s a long story. I don’t know exactly how to explain it. I used to be a dominatrix.”“A dominatr...x?” I repeated, stunned.“Yes. I used to have a business where men would come to be humiliated and treated badly. They would pay me good money to call them pigs, tie them up and stick my stilettos into their balls while they begged to fuck me.”“Did they fuck you?” I asked, wondering why this conversation hadn’t come up previously.“No, they were mostly married. She was put into my form room and it soon became clear she was bright and bubbly and very approachable so I took every opportunity I could get to talk to her. We became very close and I eventually got the nerve up to ask her out, which, to my amazement she said yes. My mates were very jealous.One afternoon we were sat in her garden when I finally got up the nerve to ask her what happened to her feet. I took a deep breath and said, ‘Sophie, I hope you don’t mind me asking, and say no if you. This episode with the prostitute had reaffirmed her fears unfortunately for her, she was mistaken. Susan was glad that David had suffered no permanent damage for his indiscretion and hoped this was the last they would hear about the matter.The next few weeks were fairly uneventful; David kept Susan up to date about his recovery and after a second appointment with the clinic got the all-clear. She made him show his penis again, although she wasn't exactly sure why. 'To make sure he's ok' she. I was bursting at the seems.I told her to stay right there and I went to bring in my mate. On our return she was lying there with her legs wide open exposing her moist pussy. She had also took the time to remove her panties.My mate excitedly looked at me as I had not divulged what I was about to show him.He was drooling. I asked him would he like to fuck her and before I he replied he was naked and in between my wife's legs lapping up her pussy juice.She was moaning and arching her back making.