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To my disbelief, I kept slowly taking more and more, wanting, absurdly, to be a good cocksucker, and better than Andy."Shit cocksucker, I'm enjoying this slow burn, but I need to get back to school, my girlfriend is going to be wondering where I am," he said.Oddly...pathetically...my first reaction was shit, I'm not going to get to taste his cum.He declared, "I'm going to fuck your mouth, cocksucker."Excited he still planned to finish, I moaned on his cock."Such an eager married white cocksucker," he smirked, as he began fucking my mouth.It wasn't rough, and he didn't try to gag me with all ten inches, but it was a lot more intense than when I was controlling the sucking.I focused on not gagging and breathing through my nose, just like my wife had instructed on Saturday, as more than half his cock glided in and out of my mouth.I couldn't fathom how anyone, even an experienced cocksucker, could ever take all that cock.He groaned, seemingly close, "This time I'll reward you with my full. Daring heels.Slutty heels. They were perfect. She had plans for these. Tonight. She was getting horny just thinking about it.She sat, mesmerized, for a little longer, fantasising about her plans for later. She could feel herself becoming aroused - wet even. She began to move a hand towards her breasts, the other sliding under her waistband towards her pussy...She stopped, willing herself back to the now."Later ... Later."With a sigh she put the shoes back in their box and got up to run a bath.He climbed the stairs to their apartment, slightly out of breath but fit enough to make it without undue distress. His own shopping trip had been successfully completed a half hour before and a small collection of shiny new things was clustered in the bags he hauled up with him.He'd phoned to say he was on his way home - perhaps if he was lucky dinner would be not far off. If he was home first he definitely would have started making dinner by now, but then women didn't think with their stomachs.
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I had taken him in. In his quest to dominate me, I stole what I could of him because I had taken him in. I robbed and used him unlike the way he robbed and used me for his own enjoyment. I owned part of him - only a part of him, because I am not greedy – by giving him all of me. I have always taken the greatest pleasure in things, in retrospect. The unrelenting thinking and my labyrinthine brain. I oscillate again. I am in a constant dialectic of hating my thoughts and loving them. Pain and pleasure. La douleur exquise. I want more pain, more pleasure. I want to give him every immeasurable psychological inch of me this time, no wavering, no drifting, no volition. The more I give, the less I will be lost. There will be nothing left to adulterate my self-awareness. As for my Master, his responsibility is great, onerous, less enviable. It reassures me but I worry for him because it is I he has taken on. I want to tell him that he needn’t crush or deny me the complexity that is my.

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