I hadn’t come myself and was sporting a firm and good sized erection. Anita started gently stroking my cock, pressing my gland between her fingers, ...ending pulses of pleasure through my crotch. “Shall I get the express train to shoot out of the tunnel and see it derail all over the landscape?” She teasingly suggested. It was a metaphor we’d used before. She loved masturbating me and watching my cock jerk as the semen shot out. I called her the controller of the line. It was always her call to. I dropped back on the pillows and turned my back on him. I wanted to be left alone but he wasn’t taking the hint. ‘Are you going to eat or do I have to feed you?’ ‘I’d like to see you try,’ I muttered into the upholstery. I refused to turn back toward him. ‘Ok,’ he said with a resigned sigh. ‘But I imagine it would taste a damn sight better if it wasn’t being stuffed down your throat.’ I turned around at last. He was grinning at me and holding a forkful of food, waving it in my direction. ‘You. More

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