I sat there sobbing while Iris finishedher drink. Finally, she let me put my shorts and tank top back on and weleft. Back home, she removed the pin,...treated the wound, and then held mewhile I cried myself to sleep.Our routine doesn't vary much from day-to-day. I'm up by five and out ofthe house for my run by five-fifteen. When I get home I strip, shower, andthen prepare breakfast for Iris. I serve her breakfast in bed and kneelbeside the bed while she eats. I am, of course, nude at all. She looked at my dick sticking up like some Indian totem for fertility and then raised her amused eyes to mine in an accusatory manner as if blaming me for the wasting of valuable male sperm for no reason other than boredom.The shape of her slender figure was outlined under her thin nightshirt in the flickering shadows of the hallway lamp. It was added fuel to the fire inside my still growing member.I remember the way she put her delicate little finger up to her glistening red lips to warn me. More

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