When we arrived at Madame Joan’s establishment we were ushered quickly into a private room, where we were dressed for the occasion. All that we were wearing were masks, disguising our identities, a bustier for you, along with suspender belt and black stockings, and black high heeled shoes. I only wore a cock and ball ring, sustaining my erection and not allowing my balls to retract. You gave them a not so gentle squeeze, slipping easily into the Madame Suzanne role, hissing in a voice full of menace “Whatever happens you only come for me, and only when I allow it.” Madame Alison came in to meet you. She was young, naked, shaved pudendum, labia puffed and exposed, a cane in her hand and a thin sheen of perspiration covering her body. Madam Alison looked at me, stroking my erection with her cane. “Is this your slave Madame Suzanne? Can I discipline him?” You nodded your assent, whereupon she grabbed my exposed balls, squeezing them and pulling them forward, tears welling in my eyes. It's kind of a typical accommodation. Brad didn't show up for about a year after I was married, then one night, I felt his call.I was instantly worried about Samuel, so I met Brad in the living room, in my nightgown, though I had time to put on makeup. As he kissed me hello, he whispered "Don't worry about your husband, he will sleep." The timing was such that I knew perfectly well it wasn't Brad that ruined my sex life with Samuel. And I wanted him so.That was the night he started feeding far more heavily from me. It had been so long, that I almost forced him to take me deeply the first draught, the soul filling ecstacy lasting incredibly. I remember being spread eagled on the carpet, my gown still around my shoulders, my hand catching our juices as they leaked out of my pussy and eating them. His jism gave me some sort of boost. I was writhing, full of passion and want, holding his eyes and trying to make my undulations as sexy as I could.It worked. "Susan, Susan, you are such an.
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