That was plausible becausethat special something would work perfectly for the scene I wasenvisioning. I told Rob to open the closet and find the bag ...hat was onthe floor, in the back. He did, and knew better than to look insidewithout permission. Instead, he hesitantly handed it to me. I reachedinside and pulled out a pair of cream-colored panties. At first he didn'tunderstand, at least not until I reached inside them and poked my fingerout through the opening in their crotch.He was. Salty. I wanted to spit it out, but therewas no place to. He told me to swallow. I did, but I could still taste his acrid flavor. Icould feel his scum sliding down my throat. I wiped at my tears and my handcame away dark from my running mascara. I didn't feel so worldly anymore. Insteadof naughty, I felt - used - dirty. He told me not to say a word. He told me no one would believe a slut likeme anyway. He told me that I was a good cocksucker, and that to come back anytimeI wanted some help. I. More

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