”“If it will conflict with prior engagements it can be rescheduled.”“No, it poses no conflict.”“Alright then, does seven at the steakhouse...on Clarke work for you?”“It works well. I will see you then,” I said giving off a fake air of confidence. I raised rather hurriedly out of my chair and turned towards the door.Holding the door open for me, he bid me farewell and reminded me of our agreed timing in a tone that made it sound as both a promise and a threat.When I arrived home I pinched myself. I'm on my knees. I fumble with the zip of his fly. I can see the stitching on the denim, the yellow metal of the zip tag. I'm still too slow, another slap. My ears are ringing. I pull his cock from his trousers. He tells me that's good. It's swollen, purple, he's obviously already excited. It smells musty, somehow, as if it's come from some damp, dark cave. He says to use my mouth; like I've done for the others. They've all told him that I can do it all right but he might have to force me. I. Gyrating and twisting it trying to please him. After about thirty minutes he turns to face his new whore and slams his cock into her hot mouth. Fighting the urge to gag she desperately tries to relax her throat muscles. Suddenly he grabs her hair and jerks her head back. Then using the hair guides her onto the bed. He arranges her so that her head is off the bed. which straightens her throat. Then he face fucks the eager mouth and slowly she becomes aware of something. Her power lies in. "And that's all you're going to say, huh?" Anita asked. After a noticeable silence, she asked, "Well, did you see him?" No we just talked." Well, you didn't talk all day. What else did you do, anything exciting?" Aunt Anita asked."Mostly swimming and sunning myself ... but it was somewhat interesting," Sandy replied."The pool guy showed up?" No, better than that." Sexy?" For me, yes. For you ... well, maybe." Are you going to tell me, or do I have to keep guessing." No, I'll tell you, if you.