Don was almost 30, another latent who still bore the scars of his releasing accident. Scars both physical and mental. And angry scar ran down his face...and an angry streak ran through his psyche. He was a gambler. High stakes (back room only) poker. Not only did he always know what everyone held in their hands, he could keep the other players from folding when he wanted to drive up the pot. He could do this over and over because they always left the table without a clear memory of whom they had. I felt him flex inside my mouth and stiffen a little more. Yes, we wrote those words to each other, but they have been missing from our mouths. Hearing the words were reinforcing, strengthening, and a gave me a kind of anchor in our relationship. Now, I went after him with new vigor and interest, intent on making him cum, to taste him early in the day. I did. He did. We did. His hips rose off the bed, making me rise with him to keep him in my mouth, he twitched, jerked, and strained. When he. More

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