Willie
The sensation is freakishly wondrous. There is something about the neck collar and the tension on my spinal cord that brings an instant need for my p***s to stand. And I am heartened to feel Miss Benson finally cut and remove the simple yet controlling strand of plastic holding my glans p***s captive in its sheath. It celebrates and obediently amuses my tormenting landlady.
As Miss Benson has suggested, my feet dance in futile attempts to find terra firma, and my lurching seems to further stimulate my tumescence. My hood is removed and I find that my p***s is standing so high and rigid that I can see the tip in my lower gaze, despite my inability to move my head.
Then I feel hands...soft, but strong hands as Miss Benson tenderly draws my heavy sac back between my spread thighs. I
