We said our goodnights and I entered myroom, alone. Collapsing onto my dressing table chair, I stared at myreflection ruefully. I always used to think...it strange that women wouldrefer to doing their make-up as "putting on my face", but I understoodit all too well now. I was Paul Ripley, but the face in the mirrorbelonged to my creation (or recreation) Eva Schumacher. When wearingmake-up, my face was her face. It was a face I wore more hours every daythan I did my own. I rubbed cold cream into. And it felt good almost like a real fuck. Although I am craving for his body his scent I would love to touch him experience him with all my senses I could make do with that given the situation. We renewed our little filthy meeting for later this evening and it became a daily routine, me fucking my ass with various things and vegetables and him fucking his pillows busting a nut everywhere I could imagine pretending to breed me again and again... Time passed by easily and joyfully with my new. More

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