I was hoping they'd just get on with it once inside the room, but they came out onto the balcony. I was froze stiff, I think at one point I even stopped breathing when I heard them step through the sliding doors, giggling and having fun. I thought that they'd maybe sit there for a short spell, but the sweet smell of hash drifting over the partition wall told me otherwise. They were having a smoke and chatting quietly, I couldn't make out anything they said in amongst the sounds from the noisy. He still functioned adequately, but did not thrill me in the same way that a good fucking by Tom did, and I couldn’t imagine Tom taking my orders. If I had tried, I would have been forced to deep throat him, or to be roughly assfucked, and told to do it in no uncertain terms. Of course, I secretly enjoyed such acts anyway, and the strength of the man was what bound me to him. Looking back I now realised that although my first marriage had been marred by the physical violence and verbal abuse. Breaking the kiss for a moment, he stared into my eyes from inches away. I saw dark passion and lust before I pulled at the back of his neck, impatient for more. That was all the encouragement he needed as he pushed me back against the door and claimed my mouth once more. Drips from our hair trailed down our faces, making the kiss deliciously slippery. Later, he was the only blanket I needed. The soft neon glow of street-lamps illuminated the path of wet, strewn clothes to where he moved over. He slid in easily, inch by satisfying inch. His hands held her hips and moved her on him, slowly until they both came in a gentle wave of pleasure. She leaned back against him, their bodies slick with soap and water. His cock still embedded into her. ‘When did you know it was me?’ ‘At the end, when I saw the scar on your chest, right before you attached the suction cups.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘Did both pledges make it?’ ‘Yes. The first one is nice and aggressive. He’ll work if he can learn to control it. The.
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