I know my body's changed, and my mind keepstelling me that it would never have worked, but my heart...my heart keepstelling me that I should have trie... harder to hang on.Did I do the right thing? Should I have fought to keep us together?After it was over, I punched a wall...then I cried...I guess that justabout sums it up. There's two parts of me, the male and the female, andthey're constantly at war these days.In the end, I'm not sure which side is going to win...Maybe neither....Febuary 2The. Greg took the baton and slide it down my throat making me gag as he rapidly and shallowly fucked my mouth with it.Eventually Greg got up onto the kitchen island as well and continued to fuck me. His cock got hotter and hotter as we were now making very sloppy and slutty noises as his cock went in and out of my ass. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and Greg slid the baton all the way down my throat. It stayed in my throat and he fucked me over and over for what seemed like hours, however it. My little dick was still kinda hard and I kept thinking about what I just saw. What fascinated me the most was what I had seen at the very end. I guess I envied him for his a****listic drive to pleasure himself. He must have known that he wasn´t alone in the room, but he didn´t care. He wanted to pleasure himself and he did, he took what he wanted, I never could do that, I did´t have the courage. The amount of pleasure his body expressed kept going through my head. I closed my eyes and saw him. Is it a trap? Dare I tell him my name? I know the men who work here have given me a number. I try giving him that instead. "I'm Slave 13." Without waiting for an answer, I re-smother his shaft, sucking hard around his cock. I begin to moan, rubbing my own breasts as my jaw ripples with the effort of giving him pleasure. He groans louder now, until I draw off of him with a loud pop, his pre-cum dripping down my chin. I gather some of it up and, for some reason, I don't know why, I spread it.