Could you bring me the pack of elastic hair ties there on the table please?” I groaned inwardly. With my cock free, I was ready to get busy and ge... some release. But soon after we married, Heather had introduced me to the twin concepts of delayed orgasm and ruined orgasm. Using those damn rubber hair bands she could tie my nuts into separate packages and stretch my balls from my body in ways that made it damn impossible to shoot a load. She thanked Alex as my daughter handed her a large. They were running it with four six hour shifts but she'd been inside this parked civil-class chimera across the highway from the Cult hideout for the better part of three local 'weeks'* and she was completely fucking sick of the damned thing.*(This looney tunes planet where every man and his grox owned a tank actually had days that were about 126.439 imperial standard hours long, so the locals called those days 'weeks' and broke them up into five imperial standard 'days' plus one or two extra. More

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