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She sat across from me and said that we needed to talk. “Oh, oh,” I thought.She was looking very serious, so I took it seriously.“This is difficult for me,” she started. “In spite of the short time we’ve been together, I feel more connected than I have to any man in a very long time. My work brings me very close to a lot of men but there is not the emotional connection that I need as well.” She stopped right there, seemingly unsure how to continue.“Okay then,” I prompted, “I understand the first part, and I feel the same way about you. There is something more you want to share with me, so please realize that I do my best to be a non-judgmental person.”She got up and refilled our wineglasses, taking a big slug of hers as she sat down. I could see emotions running all over her visage. She got up again and went to her purse, then handed me her business card. “Look carefully at my title,” she said. It read “Social Events Coordination Services”.I looked at it and nothing registered, so. God that was hot. You should see what your cock looks like right now; all dark and throbbing. You should feel how slick it feels, how hard, how hot.” She continued her slow pumping, describing to me in detail how good it felt to have my dick sliding in and out of her hand, how the pre-cum was dribbling out in increasing amounts, how my glans appeared to be flaring for her. “Do you need to cum, babe? Do you want to cum for me?” “Oh yes; oh yes!” I began thrusting my hips to the beat of her beating me off; struggling mightily against my bonds. She sped up her strokes, really fisting my knob now. “Cum for me, Britt! Cum for me!’ Straining against the strength of the silk ties, I screamed as I shot rope after rope of white-hot ejaculate all over my chest. The feeling was exquisite; my heart was pumping so hard I could hear it, my body felt like it was one big spasm, my toes curled, and my balls literally ached from the force of my orgasm. I was drenched in sweat and cum. “Oh my! I.
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