.. It made my pussy clench.“Have you been bad, slave?” he asked, his voice sounding amused.“So bad, Master,” I moaned. “I was a wicked slave.... I came on the ogre’s cock.”“You did?”I nodded my head, my cunt clenching, remembering the brutal feel of the ogre’s huge dick ramming into me. During the fight, I used my pussy to distract him. Ogres were rapacious, fucking anything, not caring about the pain they inflicted. Like me, their race was birthed by the God of Lust’s indiscriminate masturbation.. As far as fucking with guys goes, I usually did what I do, and then masterbate myself after, whether they're still there or not. Very rarely has someone been able to get me to cum completely without my help.So I guess what I'm saying is, if I decide that I might be able to cum from some kind of stimulation, it's probably pretty fucking hot.One of my hands rested on the back of his head, gently keeping time with the rhythm of his mouth thrusting sucking slurping and squeezing while my other hand. Sharon's Lexus was in the driveway, as was a Mercedes wagon. I told Billy to get the plate number off the wagon; it was probably Gary's. Billy wrote down the number while Arnie shot a boatload of photos of the house. Thank God for dark tint windows. We returned to the hotel, to make plans for Monday. I went back out past the house, and the wagon was gone. I called Sharon's cell. "You OK?" I asked when she answered."Yeah, I'm OK", she said."I'm parked where I can see the house, but he can't see. They have twelve of them and before the change of Directors, we used to let each other know the numbers. I don't know what's going on, but I would forward a report of this to your immediate supervisor."I thanked her, saying I would certainly be doing that as soon as I got home. I drove to the house wondering why I would come to the attention of the NSA but had no clue. I decided I would file the report and then call Interpol and let them know too. I knew my Director there would not be happy.