Don't you dare touch your cock. I may want that later. I haven't made my mind up yet. What I need now is your tongue. On my cunt. This isn't sex: it's...masturbation. And I've just told you how I like to get myself off. So get your head into position." You scoot down the bed. I take the flute of remaining Pol, downing it in one. Leaving deep red lipstick on the glass. "No, move here. I need to be able to see myself in the mirror. "You powerful men are such a cliché. I'd have been much more. Daniel would often seclude himself in his room late at night and thumb through his favorite magazines, mostly Playboy or Penthouse with the occasional Hustler or hard core magazine, depicting scenes that Daniel could only dream of doing, all the while having one hand hold the magazine, the other rooted firmly to his cock. On the way to his room, Daniel would have to pass by the bathroom door and on one night Daniel made a discovery that would forever alter the way he looked at sex forevermore.. More

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