I knew this part. I was supposed to crawl after him on my knees, and then such his shit covered dick.I tried not to retch as I ran my tongue over the ...head of Robert's dick. Meanwhile he was in heaven."Your wife doesn't do this for you, does she baby," I said."I'd never let her," he said roughly. "Because, I love her, and she's not a slut."I paused again. "Robert there's something we need to talk about," I said. Even as I tried to figure out how to begin what I wanted to say to him, his words. Fifth, what was Mandy’s involvement? She was obviously connected with the Festivals, but how?I stood up and stretched. The night had ended and grey daylight pressed on the study window. I opened the curtains to behold a miserable morning, the wind divesting the maple tree across the cul-de-sac of its last remaining leaves. I swallowed the rest of my coffee and went to shower and shave.The first three points of my ruminations had failed to prove the Castration Festivals were fantasy, so it. I wouldn't even call it a date rather a drink after work but at the time I was quite desperate and I classified any meeting with a woman a "date".The bar around the corner was a known hang-out of co-workers and we were not really alone. As usual we started talking about work, interrupted by some colleagues saying hi and chipping in. The conversation took an unexpected turn when I looked for my phone, panicking that I lost it. I emptied my pockets and there were two tickets for an arts. I'm praying you don't look back, almost hoping you do. Will you end this madness? You moan and push back against my hand. You don't look back. My cock is so hard it hurts. I press a thumb into your wetness and you shudder, and shift your knees apart. You are soaking wet. I can smell your arousal, and there is no hint of cum. Why aren't you turning? Can't you tell there is a strange cock about to enter you, about to fill you with another man's cum? My jogging shorts threaten to rip from the.