Instead of going out to a fancy dinner, I told Greg I was going to cook for him. Greg arrived in a tight suit showing off his muscular build. His hand...ome face smiling, holding flowers, he came inside to find me drinking wine, sitting on the coffee table nearly naked. "I expected you in the kitchen." He said, taking off his jacket, sitting besides me on the table. His cock already visibly starting to stiffen for me. He tossed the flowers and jacket on the couch, kissing my and rubbing his hands. I did this over and over, drawing my head back to come up for air and show Him the ribbons of thick, sticky drool--the kind that only develops when a man is probing the back of your throat--that connected my mouth to His cock. Looking up at him through tears--His cock pressing against my windpipe, my tongue darting around His balls. He looked down at me and said those magic words: "you are such a whore!" He spoke them with gusto, with admiration, with pride. Those five little words made me. More

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