The head was a different colour than the rest and I watched him slide his hand over it. My arse still hurt from the stretching, but I was beginning to...get used to it and the sight of a man wanking over me dressed like a slut was beginning to turn me on.My arse began to hurt less and I quieted down but still I could not catch my breath. I was breathing very deeply, still staring at the dick in front of me. I looked up at the guy in front of me. He was still studying my face."Tell me you love it,. ..? I mean...are you...satisfied?” ...Was my therapist asking me I was getting any? This was definitely veering away from the usual territory of our discussions. “Um, yes,” I answered. “But for me it’s secondary.” “Secondary?” “Yeah. It’s just not that important to me. I’m more interested in making her feel good. I can take it or leave it.” “I see...” she trailed off, and for the first time in the conversation she looked away from me. She seemed to be struggling with something in her. More

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