Hemingway’s words made her warm with desire as she began imagining him speaking to her. She loved the infliction of a deep baritone voice, which she... had been told Hemingway had. Her imagination conjured up an image of a debonair gentleman with women hanging off his every word. The sound of the rain hitting the roof and the windows. Her brain conjured up all sorts of interesting images as the rain pelted the windows and the rooftop with a furious unrelenting stream of raindrops. Tonight was one. Someone banged on the door and Master left.She heard voices, a woman?s voice coming from the other room.Then she came in."What was the last order your master gave?" Morrison asked."erm Master said to stand in this position" She responded."Well you'd better stay in that position then." Morrison asked popping the balm.She spread it on to the palm and fingers of her left hand and put her hand around the slaves neck, not quite massaging, not quite choking. "Remember His order".She squirted some. There are occasions where it reaches beyond all probability and luck. For instance: Winning the lottery, or catching the biggest fish in the lake with merely a stick and some shoelace. Proof positive would be the bombshell giving Elijah her phone number, because she, in all reality, should not be doing so, especially since it was his third attempt at trying to get it right. Elijah blamed the noise of the gigantic cargo plane two-hundred-or-so yards away for his failing, not his nervousness. The. I replied that I didn't know, whereupon he grabbed at my cock through my jeans and asked me:"How about here?" I was almost instantly hard. He rubbed my jeans-clad package for a bit, and then took my boxers and jeans down. He asked me if I'd been given head by a guy before. I told him no, then he proceeded to show me what I'd been missing, right there in the hallway of his house. I moaned and ran my hands through his curly hair as he gave me the best suck-job of my life to date. He was a master.