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I’d played the dominant role many times over the last year and a half, and thought “What the hell? This is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and if this is what it takes to get between those legs, I’m game.” I lay down on her bed, and allowed Katie to cuff my wrists to the bedposts. Immediately I began to feel a little nervous, having never experienced this side of the game. Before I could think about it, though, she was pulling my boxers off, exposing a hard-on that had no qualms at all about its fate. She licked it once, gently, and then leaned up and whispered in my ear. “These are the rules. When I’m on the phone, you are not to make a noise. I am in charge. This is my livelihood, and I have to make these guys think I’m here all alone, masturbating for them. Can you do as I’ve instructed?”At this point, I would have promised to jump out the window naked if it would make her continue, so I nodded my head. “If at any point, you begin to make noise, I will gag. You're too big for me now, Dave.It's still over between us," she said.Just as she opened her mouth to say "us" I hit it with a cum blob.Sandra instantly shook her body and screamed with pleasure. "That'sso delicious I can't describe it. Dave, don't ever leave me. Standstill while I stroke that for you," Sandra pleaded.Sandra knelt in front of me and put her mouth to the cock head. I'dwaited months for that moment, and made her wait a few seconds just tosavor my victory. Finally, I began shooting cum into her mouth as I'ddone for Annie. Sandra was able to keep swallowing longer but soon,she too was full. Her face, shoulders, chest, and legs were coveredwith gobs of sticky fluid, and there was more on the floor. Sandrafuriously pulled off the rest of her clothes and began smearing cum onher pussy. This caused her to climax even more. Finally, she fellasleep in the huge puddle of cum. I wiped the cock on her blouse, putmy pants back on, and looked for something to drink. I found.
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I’m sorry, obviously no one’s pussy is worth going to jail for.’ He scraped a pancake onto my empty plate with a glower. ‘Shut up,’ he commanded. ‘Guess I only like you with your dress off.’ His eyes looked me up and down, and he leaned back. I couldn’t read him. ‘How’s your hand?’ I flexed, and told him I couldn’t really feel it. I wanted to remove the wrapping. He complied, still avoiding my eyes and my skin. With the cast off, there was only the discolored, grotesque wound. Slowly, I moved my fingers. He assured me he had used everything he could get to make it heal properly. Feeling the air on my palm, I was able to move it—slowly but surely. He led me to the door of his rickety working-class building and looked up and down the street cautiously. His large hand grabbed mine possessively, as though I would escape. We descended the wooden steps, and something shot through me. I felt warm. It was sunny. My stomach was full. I was either his friend of his prisoner. Either way, it.

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