I am sure this is not what my wife wanted.So now in my life a fantasy would defiantly involve a man. Not just any man but a man who is a friend. A str...ong man who is a little older than we are may between 50 and up and in good shape and with a mental clarity, dominant, and knows what he wants and demands it. And not to mention a wonderfully large cock. When he comes over he is instantly the man of the house and I become his best buddy and servant. He has taken away my little penis by placing me. At a certain point you realized that having more than 10 women at once is just redundant. You hadn't completely removed the idea from the table, it just wasn't the flavor of the month.You yawn, stretching your arms above your head. As the blanket rises, you catch a glimpse of your flaccid cock. It is, in a word, meaty. You weren't small to begin with, but numerous advances in the field of Breeding science had led to substantial improvements. You remember the day you were given the bottle of 50. Then left, without so much as a glance.Ten minutes ago? Thirty? Hard to keep track of time.Too long. Not long enough.Her eyes kept glancing to the polished wooden contraption in the centre of the high, bare cell. Glancing, looking away, steeling herself, glancing back. The leather ties that would bind her ankles. Looking away. Looking away. The smooth, dark wood over which they’d have her bend, the ties for her wrists on the opposite side. Looking away. Looking away.She shivered and wrapped her. "So Ivy what is it that you really want from me??" Charles was frustrated.A part of him enjoyed that Ivy was apologizing to him. In fact he hardly called her Mistress the whole time and she didn't get angry."Charles I really want us to be friends. All I am asking is for your forgiveness. That would mean a lot to me. I promise I am going to be much more caring and much more nicer to you. You'll be more like my boyfriend than my slave. I will take much better care of you. Please say you'll.