The soft and sinful husk in her voice. It ruined him—enslaved him to her. He was over the edge now. There was no turning back. And all the madness, ...he unreality of it, faded out into the aether.He followed her, his heart stopping more than once as he stumbled on a cracked, uneven step. The waves frothed far below, like fangs. But the sway of her hips, of her bare, beckoning shoulders lured him on.Halfway down the stairs disappeared, swallowed into a low tunnel—a warm, wet cavern hollowed out. I deliberately dressed in a ratherseductive manner. We initially met in the lobby, but, since I told himthat I what I wanted to talk about was rather personal, he was kindenough to invite me up to his room. He even offered me a drink, Coca Colato be sure, which I accepted. I sat down in one of the easy chairs,deliberately crossing my legs rather revealingly, and giving him thesweetest most innocent look I could."Who are you?" I asked, "Why are you pretending to be Rev. McCracken?"He was a bit. But she did it thinking that I was right, that many men needed, even wanted this. I basically taught her that there were two types of men. I wasn’t naive enough to believe in absolute matriarchy, but I still held to the view that one was either an alpha male and deserved to take what he needed or wanted ... or a beta, cuck type, which I honestly thought that my husband was ... and you were. I was wrong about Davis, and yes, I was wrong about you. But, yes, I thought that a man like you wanted a. "Now smile."Defeated, he smiled weakly, and I snapped a second picture, a tradition I have continued to this day, a faggot's first facial. I complimented, "You look very good with my cum all over your face."He looked down, ashamed at what he had just did. I pointed to the floor, "You missed some."As anticipated, the cum-craving faggot, leaned down and scooped my cum with his finger and put it in his mouth. I smiled, "You love my cum, don't you, faggot?"Although his red cheeks displayed his.
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