“I’ve been from Oxbridge to Hackney to Hollywood to Detroit.”Our eyes met. Neither of us blinked.“I’m inspired by sex,” I breathed. “Fuc...ing. Bodies. Violence. Man and woman. Sweat. Losing control.”He inhaled slowly.“You’re inspired when you fuck?”“Yes. Even thinking about it.”“Are you thinking about it now?” he breathed.I looked up at him. His mouth was inches from mine.“I can’t think of anything else, Marc.”He kissed me before I kissed him. His hand went into my hair and I had to catch hold. " He was so right about me being spoiled and calling me faggot made me plunge the dildo in deeper. I was terrified yet I was loving it. In and out, in and out. And i just let go. My sighs and moans became pure. I wanted him to hear me."You have always had everything handed to you haven't you, faggot?"I looked up at him so he could see my eyes, to see me surrender to him as i pushed and pulled on the dildo. "Yes, Sir" That ends today."I arched my back so he could get a better view as i pushed. More

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