He stopped for a second, sliding two fingers into my swollen pussy lips and began massaging me from the inside out. "My god you're wet. I bet you want...to come, slut. Is that what you want?" He traced my jawline with his finger. "Yes, pl--please let me come Sir...master." I yelped "You've been such a good girl but it is not time yet. You must please me first." Sir grabbed his cock and rubbed it across my face. "So you tell me. Where am I going to come?" he said lustfully, with a smirk on his. Maybe he is okay with that, maybe he will welcome the third party or the many other women into their lives and they will be able to find happiness that way. But maybe he is not okay with it. Maybe he imagines there is something fundamentally wrong with him, as a man, something that caused her to become lesbian. Maybe he wonders what he did to cause someone who seemed so in love to reject him. Perhaps he now doubts his capacity to distinguish genuine love, and begins to regard himself as. More

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