“Tell me what you’re seeing, Alice,” I said. Pleaded. Said. My cock was painfully hard by now. My hands itched to slide over to my bulge and pro...ide some relief.“Describe it to me. What are you doing? What are you thinking? Tell me, I want to hear it.” I need to hear it.“Keep quiet, Mr Morrison,” she bit out breathlessly.“Tell me or I’ll take the blindfold off,” I threatened.She inhaled sharply, maybe because her model’s disobedience frustrated and scandalized her, or maybe because she imagined. I knew I couldn’t sit around the house, waiting, for 35 minutes; I’d be a worse wreck than I already was. I got our two dogs, the only “kids” Ingrid and I have or want, and took them for a walk. I got back around 8:10, and sat nervously waiting. Even in this short a time, I knew Gwen was notorious for not being on time to anything, so I was mentally trying to prepare myself for her being later than she’d said. However, to my surprise, right at 8:15 she logged back onto Skype, and this time she. More

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