He doesn’t speak either, he usually uses body language, or signals to communicate with me. He speaks now and then, particularly if I’m really good...– or really bad…I can’t look at him either, not his eyes. I’m not worthy. I will look at him if he asks me to, but not unless that happens. I watch his feet approach me, and stop infront of me briefly, his eyes burning into me. He then picked up my bowls and washes them, before returning to put the blanket in the washing machine. My nipples harden,. I panted heavily. PUFFFFF. PUUUUFFFFF.My wife hadn't put out for weeks, the bitch was always too tired, and I probably had gallons of semen to release: I needed a cum hungry whore to satisfy.PUMP. PUMP. PUMP. PUMP. PUMP. PUMP.I sprinted upstairs and there she was, spread out like the dirty whore I knew she would be. Fingering herself, and inserting an unusual sex toy into her anus. A longer glance later confirmed it to be a didgeridoo. She looked up with pure surprise.'Who are you?'Then she. More

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