Pasture TalkSomething happens. My homophobia seems to be eroding. I suppose licking donor Bob, both rewarding his analingus and entertaining the trio of clients, is the first fallen stone of a crumbling castle wall. That and the daily stressful throat training, a determined Miss Beth thrusting a sizable dildo, triggering a gag reflex which I struggle to repress.
In initially addressing her need, too much sloppiness ensued. Opening my throat is to bring neatness.
And there is great encouragement to so conquer the reflex... any stomach contents spewing forth as a result of her training efforts... though deft and caring... are reintroduced. As one may expect, avoiding the taste of my own bile brings focus... encouragement.
Thus pasture time is welcomed. I need company and I am no longer de
