Well when my butt recieved my first feel of human, I felt at that first second that this would be my first and last taste of human back there. Thank g...odness for the lubricity of youth. Well, some patience paid off here, as it did start to feel better pretty quick.He started grunting and pushing, hard. I was coming from his hand, not his dick. It felt alright, but I was coming so hard that I could hardly tell what he was doing. Then he stiffened even more and started pushing slower. I could. He was trying hard not tothink of the night before, of Doyle and his drunken night at the bar. Ofthe bathroom stall, of Doyle forgetting who Jessica even was. Ofcompletely feeling like a girl, the feeling of freedom he felt. It was afeeling that had let him stride through the middle of town unafraid andunconcerned by the greedy looks from men as he darted past. Surely thatkind of feeling couldn't be wrong. It didn't feel wrong. Was this what hewas feeling? Art wasn't sure.The door to the coffee. All that I could hear above the sounds of my balls slapping her ass and my cock plunging in and out of her sopping wet sex were a series of guttural groans. Sweat was pouring off my brow and into my eyes, my back was soaked with the perspiration of so much effort, the muscles in my thighs screamed under the demands I was making of them, but there was no way I was going to stop. I could feel my own peak building as my balls tightened.“I’m going to cum, where do you want it?” I announced, still. When my orgasm passes, I step back again, releasing his hair. “Oh Mistress, how I love pleasing you. Are you pleased, my sweet Mistress?” He dares to look up at me; I can see his face glisten with my juices. “I am, but we’re far from done,” I smile down at him and hook his leash to his collar, “come with me, Slut puppy.” He follows me on his knees. We head towards his bedroom. I have him get on the bed, and I tie each of his limbs to the bed. I’m thankful he has a bed that allows it. I.