I’d said my piece, I wasn’t going to push it. I took the stairs down quietly and hurried through the living room to the kitchen. There was a memo ...oard hanging on the wall next to the yellow rotary phone: a miniature cutting board with a note pad glued to it and a pencil dangling from a piece of yarn. I thought about leaving a note, something thanking her for all her generosity. I remembered then that I hadn’t gotten my ten dollars for the day, but that was the least of my concerns. What to. At every opportunity I found myself complimenting my wife in front of him, when she left the table I would turn the subject to her, I even asked her to take a turn going to the bar so I could talk about her, then he finally paid her a compliment himself, saying she looked very pretty in her short dress. It was at that point when he complimented her that I just blurted it out like a drunken spoiled c***d and said “Why don’t you take her round the back and doo her” I then heard myself telling him. .....................................Dale, 22, never met Jack, 56. But, That didn't matter...."Hi, daddy..." Dale grinned."Hi, son...." Jack smiled. They hugged. A lttle too long... a little too tightly.... then they kissed... opened mouths, tongues probing, hands caressing..."May I touch you, honey?" Jack moaned, his fingers cupping Dale's genitals."Ouuuu please do, daddy..." Dale sighed, spreading his legs for him, watching as Jack's fingers crept up his trembling thighs, unzipping his. Until then I had no idea how much I enjoyed cbt and nipple torture. He kept slapping my cock head until I shot a huge load. Then he had me suck his cock. Another big uncut white cock. This guy met me at this bookstore every Wednesday for months and every time he would slap my cock head over and over again, he would never let me touch it, until I came. He would invite other older men into the booth to watch and invite them to slap my cock or pull my balls and nipples. He told told me he.