But some time the fat old man still continued twitching on me.At last, gasping, the old buck got up. I continued to lay picturesquely in the bed, eyes...closed, legs in stockings and shoes spread wide as if I was in orgasm still, peeping at him through slightly open eyelids. The fat old man took off the condom, tied it up in order to prevent the sperm shedding onto the carpet and looked around where to throw it. At last he threw it into my favourite vase of Saxon 18th century porcelain."Oh, you. Online or in person, message me to explore your deepest, darkest submissive fantasies. Discretion guaranteed." It was a weekend and I was alone in the house, which is rare. I was feeling a little frisky, which was not rare at all. I looked up at the little envelope icon. Could I really do this? Could I send a message to some stranger and ask him to train me as a fuckpig? Apparently, I could, because that's exactly what I did. "Hi, I might be interested in online training, but I'm married and I. More

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