.He always impressed me: his persistence, his talent, his sheer will and the speed with which he learned. Unparalleled. As his master, I admired him a...lthough he wouldn't drop the 'sensei' schtick despite that he knew I hated it. Never wanted to be seen as this scary-ass high-horse grandmaster. Get respected, yes, but never wanted this type of adoration. He wouldn't have it, though. Kept insisting I be called that.Still, he was far more than just a good student—we were good friends. Even outside. Surely an artist would study us.There were a few others at the Falls, two children and their family who splashed and played, I brought out the wine and the cheese and bread…just enough for the two of us. The sun was in its descent…early afternoon. Stupid me! I had forgotten to bring a cork screw…how to open the wine without a screw? There was that word in my mind here with a god at the falls…but I was “screwless.” I looked at him in dismay. “Give me the bottle,” he said and laughed. “I. She raised her leg and hooked it back over his. ‘Yes!’ she groaned as the tip of his erection plowed between her juicy vaginal lips. ‘There, that’s better, much better!’ She slid her hand through the rich thicket of her pubic hair and guided the tip of the mighty poker so that as Matt thrust forward, it slid into her, filling her, thrilling her. ‘My darling!’ she moaned, ‘Oh, my darling!’ Matt felt her hand on his erection, then he felt warmth and dampness engulf it as it easily entered her. She’s ... submissive. That’s how she sees it. I told her that I didn’t really view her as a subbie type, and she explained that this was due to her imitating her mother and taking control of the marriage for too long. She actually apologized for that, but observed that I had allowed it, mostly because the culture encouraged such nonsense, found it acceptable and even humorous. Hence the sitcoms with clueless, pussywhipped husbands. She confessed that she was stressed out a lot and that she.