Stan's home coming was a joyous affair and the seven days he was home with me were like a second honeymoon. He had planned on being home ten days, but...he received a phone call, told me a crisis had developed and he had to hurry back. I fucked him senseless on his last day and then told him that I wasn't going to wait another three months before I saw him again. I might not want to live up there, but I could damn sure visit. He told me that I wouldn't like it there and that rather than subject. Then I discovered that it was like getting spanked, once you got over the initial shock a lovely warmth spread over me. I started getting hot again. He seemed to sense this and so broke off his kissing. He still had hold of my hands. As he pulled away I bit into his lip at the last moment and tasted blood as he pushed us apart. We stood there facing off. He was sucking on his lip and I was staring at him defiantly. His hands on my wrists held me immobilised easily. He waited presumably to see. More

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