After I’d spurted I staggered back with my cock swinging half erect and dripping a strand of semen onto Clive’s office carpet.Then it was Clive’... turn. He quickly switched to a picture of his wife squatting nude except for red high heels on what looked like his dining room table, with her legs wide and the camera looking straight up between her spread thighs at her magnificent hairy cunt. It was obviously one of his wanking favourites. Clive picked up his wife’s panties, sodden with my semen. Yet, the quietest person I have met in years upstaged me three times in one day. Once in the morning at the diner, once in my own restaurant and shortly after in my club. Then, we all put her in the car with Sheila, so she could freaking kneel at her Mistress' feet all the way home. Why was I not totally pissed?It was just one question rattling around in my head as we left Brooklyn, heading west. If it was in my head, it probably came out, because I was talking 90 miles an hour. That was a. More

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