We cooked some food over the fire and I had brought a bottle of whiskey along for the trip. I offered some to you and you drank and it warmed you ins...tantly. We finished our meal laughing about who knows what and we really didn’t care. We kept looking in each other’s eyes with flirtation and then we started discussing slightly sexual things which brought both of us into a semi state of arousal. You were feeling a little tired and made a comment that your muscles were slightly achy from the. That made me smile, on the inside. I was too busy moaning like a slut to smile. I can’t imagine my life without her guidance. Her leadership. Her dominance.Just a few months ago I was all on my own, living in deep sin, not worshiping her thick cock.|My name is Jack, and I, like many other males living on America’s east coast, am still getting used to the new FutAmerica. I used to go to college to become an English professor. But that was out the window, like the rest of my life. My school. "Who's a good little-dicked cum eater then?" I asked, in a deriding tone. "Who liked being made to eat their own cum?" I continued. He didn't answer, and instead squirmed in shame."It's OK", I tell him, as I dismounted from his face, and spun around to face him, kneeling beside him on the bed, so that I could watch his expressions. "You are a kinky little cum eating slut. But don't worry though; this will now be just another little secret of ours, just like your other 'little' secret - the one. I was slightly pissed off that he'd forced my throat onto his cock like that, without warning or asking if it was OK, but at that point it wasn't worth mentioning, he'd shot his load of cum into my mouth, I'd swallowed it, and we'd both gotten what we'd ultimately wanted. But he sensed it, I'm sure, and stood up and quickly dressed, a quick kiss, a quick 'bye', and he let himself out of the room. He would not become a regular of mine (though he would continue to write me for awhile.