He used me. I let him. I enjoyed it too: participating passively in my own humiliating use. Matthew seemed to get off on being particularly careless o... my pleasure or ego. There was some tortured emotional satisfaction for him, I could see. The kind of smug satisfaction you get seeing your high school bully brought low. I hoped he would work through whatever it was so we could repair our lives instead of rutting like wild animals.“We can’t go on like this,” I said one night over another silent. "That was a good 'un," the man said, lifting the vibrator away from mom's clit and turning it off before he pitched it down on the bed beside her. "Look at the mess you made. With all that stuff, you ought to be nice and slippery for old John Thomas, here," he laughed, grabbing hold of his cock and giving it a couple of jerks, then squeezing his hand tight around it and milking a big, pearly drop of prefuck out of the slit in the big, slime-covered head. I was mesmerized by the drop as it left. More

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