At Home - In Thought
‘There are boys who are wired that way... finding s****l thrill in humiliation.’
Becky’s words haunt, echoing through my mind. Yes, they repeat, particularly as I spend time on my computer, searching the internet.
After ignominiously stroking myself beneath the restaurant table, the hormonal release brought both calm and shame, particularly with Becky’s guiding words, uttered in baby talk, suggesting that such a big boy show off for her and ‘spurt a nice big load of nasty goo’. The ultimate catalyst for my eruption... her hand, retracted from beneath the table. It was redolent with her fine muskiness. She had indeed slipped it between her thighs, her moist fingers going to my nose. I inhaled. I exploded for her.
Embarrassed, it became even more difficult to convers
