I hated me pitiful excuse for manhood. Both the physical manifestation of it and my lack of internal fortitude to keep a hold of that which is mine.She had closed her eyes when they kissed. She never did so when she kissed me. I couldn’t do anything would have her close her eyes. The only reaction I ever got when we made love was if I ate her out just right, she’d hiss like a snake.“Oh, please, Captain, don’ you know this wrong. We’re hurting my husband, I don’t want to do that. Dear?” she said turning me.I thought she wanted me rush over and hit the bastard. I hoped she wanted to say, Don’t do that. I cleared my head and realized none of that was what she wanted. She wanted permission. It is hard for me to put this into words, I had an intense rush of jealousy. I hated what I saw, and yet, I loved it. I could feel my prick growing to its pitiful, excited, little state. I think the ultimate humiliation was she wanted permission. No, that’s wrong, giving her permission was the worst. She then moved to his ass and secretly applied some drops of lube to the plastic cock. She lost track of time as she fucked his ass. Starting slow and deep then getting faster, then letting her fake cock come out before jamming it back in. The straps moved against her skin and before long she could feel herself about to orgasm again, but stopped herself in time. Angel was puzzled as his Mistress sat a stool in front of him but didn't sit down. He was worried that she was going to use his mouth with her fake cock, instead she moved to his rear. She placed a spreader bar between his legs, then removed his cage. Angels cock gleefully expanded as she did so with a long trail of pre-cum clinging to the cage. Next she took a spiked parachute and wrapped it around his balls on the tightest setting, she then retied his legs to the table above his knees, finally using a short piece of rope she tied the spreader bar to the parachute. This left Angel like he was trying to keep his feet against.
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