the way of the househusband masa

Carol laughed as her tight pussy squeezed my flaccid cock out on to the kitchen counter. “Why yes, Jim, yes it was good,” she giggled in a mocking voice. “You’re so cute.” She pulled up her legs and put her feet on the counter, leaning back on her elbows. I was hypnotized watching my semen drip out of her fiery red hole. “You came a lot, didn’t you?” She flexed her pussy muscles sending a healthy gush of cum onto the kitchen counter. “Next time I’m going to make you clean me up.” Again with the “next time…” She spun over onto all fours and slid off the island. “But your cum is so yummy I want every drop.” She leaned over and began eagerly lapping up my jizz. I moved closer behind her to watch her bobbing head. I slapped her ass a couple of times with my limp cock. Not missing a beat as she cleaned the island of my cum, Carol reached back with both hands and spread her ass for me. “Put your dick in my crack. I want you hard again. We’re not done yet.”

“Now I really have a mess,” she said, handing me the box of tissues she kept on her desk. “That was pretty impressive.”

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.