He was dressed in army boots, leather pants, with a pair of steel cuffs dangeling from the belt. He also wore a leather jacket. i could smell Him, His...masculinity as He walked infront of me. i followed Him out of the airport, to a parking lot. All the time i was ready to run away. But His strenght, His masculinity locked me to Him. Behind a black car, a chevrolet, He stopped, turned and looked at me. i felt so small so weak, so submessive under His look. "IF you really want this slave, strip. I feel like we’re just getting started.” I pleaded.She looked at me again with a sly smile and calmly brushed her hand across my chest, downwards and over my penis. “Well, if that’s how you feel… who am I to argue?” she conceded. She looked over to the living room, spotting the couch and proceeded to grasp my half-stalk and lightly pull me toward it.As I walked with her gripping my dick, I shook my legs out of my jeans the rest of the way. When we got to the couch, she pushed me down into a. More

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