Fucked Hot Indian Model At My Gym For Training

I become wild ,writhing and thrashing arching my body to meet your touch. The room became charged with the scent of feral sex. My body cried out for more…more. I am asking, begging, pleading for you to fuck me and release me from this terrible heat that is raging through me. You stop and pull away, you take off the blindfold. I am an uncontrolled mass of emotions. You are a controlled, disciplined artist playing my body like a fine instrument. You stand back and watch my face. You smile at the unashamed need and raw hunger you see. Your pleased that you have broken through all my prudish defensive. You remove the scarf from my wrists , then the ropes from my ankles and help me to sit up on the edge of the bed. ‘What do you want me to do’, I ask weak with desire. You come to stand before me. You take my face in your hands and pull me toward your tantalizing cock that I want to taste so very much. You tell me gruffly, ‘Suck it, slave. Make your master feel good’. I am a good slave and. " Something like that. Regardless of how accurate my memory of the exact wording, the message was clear: whatever you do, Richard, do it when you'd had a chance to cool off a bit and think it over. Seek first calm, then satisfaction. You'll be glad of it later on.With some deliberate concentration I was able to hold my place, standing back in the semi-darkness of the hall so that they would not notice me. That wasn't too likely anyway, considering their preoccupation with the business at hand. Minutes passed as my bemused mind absorbed the crime being enacted before me. As I did, I was dimly aware that, mixed in somewhere with the bitterness of betrayal there was a certain, wispy tendril of excitement. The deeply-engraved patterns of pleasure at the simple sight of my wife in the depths of passion somehow aligned with the memory of our oft-repeated couplings to draw forth an unexplainable twinge of arousal. What I was seeing was the right thing, but with the wrong man. The two.
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