“Stay as you were. I’m almostthere.”
His tightened balls bumped against her chin, and his swollen cock twitched against the back of her throat. Controlling the gagging reflex when the first jets warmed her throat, Moira was surprised by Bob’s retreat from hermouth.
For a fleeting second, her silly heart fluttered. Maybe tonight he’d stick his fucking dick inside her fucking pussy and fuck the hell out of her. She could use some of that as opposed to her battery-operated bestfriend.
But, her hopes got quickly crushed, when he stuck his cock inside her cleavage and unloaded himself. Stunned, she watched the whitish goo seep through the metal eyelets onto the dark bluebedspread.
Fuck!
She had changed the bed linen just for that night. Now she would have to washeverything.
From a nearby chair, Bob fished his briefs out of the haphazard pile of clothes he had created when he undressed. He donned it before he slipped under the covers, his back turned to Moira. His snores filled the room as she crawled out of the bed. She turned off the light on the nightstand and tip-toed back to thebathroom.
Ridding herself of the sticky corset, Moira got under the shower to wash off the rest of the mess Bob had made. She considered using the handheld shower to get off and relax, but realized there was no tension, no pent-up sexual energy for her to dealwith.
She feltnothing.
Not even atingle.
As she toweled herself dry, she peered at her face in the mirror, searching for the usual signs of distress, or self-loathing, ordisgust.
She found none ofthat.
Her eyes were clear, but neutral. She didn’t understand why until it dawned onher.
Bob’s attitude didn’t hurt heranymore.
She didn’t feel like a cheap whoreanymore.
She didn’t feel like a real-size sex toyeither.
He had doneit.
His insensitivity had made hernumb.
There was only so much a person could take. He had exceeded herlimits.
She shrugged and swirled to go back tobed.
At least, she didn’t have to fake orgasms anymoreeither.
