His huge smile shows it is clear, so my hand drops to my waist and I undo my leather belt, the button, and finally the zipper, which I ease down.He st...ares, looks around and nods. We are communicating, he is my look out, he is making sure I dont get caught, so I release the door momentarily and push my denims down to my ankles, and push the door open again.His jaw drops, he stares as my hand touches myself and I start to masturbate as he watches, I am cumming, it feels too good to stop, I can't. And she can see it bulging in black between my legs. I’ve never felt so naked. Beside her she’s prepared a pile of braided cotton ropes. She unravels one and looks into my eyes. "Give me your wrists please, palms up." She is so fucking calm. How can she be so cool and collected when my heart is threatening to burst from my chest? I outstretch my hands but almost forget to respond; she's got me breathless again. "Yes, Miss." As she expertly coils her soft rope around my wrists, she asks. It had become both a synonym of perfection and a mantra that unleashed every naughty thought I’d ever had. I noticed that we were walking, or on my part stumbling drunkenly after a perfect set of legs, down a corridor. Tracy unlocked a door and stepped inside, gesturing at us to follow her. The room was rather spartan, but clean. Against one wall stood a large bed with a dark wooden frame. Next to it was a small dresser, and a small door on the opposite wall probably lead to a bathroom. “Staff. I walked out on the field after halftime just ready for the game to be over. It hurt to even walk too fast at this point. Our opponents got the ball first in the second half, and on the opening kickoff their returner coughed up the ball, and one of our men popped up with the ball in his hand. Our bench showed life for the first time since early in the first quarter as our offense took over in enemy territory.I trotted back onto the field still pessimistic. And deep in my heart I knew that our.