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”“Things like what? Like that my bladder feels like it’s about to pop or that I think a few drops may have already leaked into my panties. Or maybe if I told you that I’m actually enjoying this much more than I thought I would.”I gripped the steering wheel as hard as I could and stared at the road as my cock spasmed. Just barely, I was able to prevent myself from exploding in my pants.“Good boy. Save all that cum for later.”“If you think I’m going to last more than three seconds you’re insane."“Oh I know, but I’ve got plans for that cum.”The last few minutes of the drive were torture for both of us. My cock was straining painfully against my pants and her intermittent sighs revealed she wasn’t lying when she said she might not make it to the shower.I pulled into the driveway almost spinning out and practically ran to the front door. By the time I got the front door open my wife was not far behind me. She walked through the door and headed straight for the master bathroom.I followed. Outside the world seemed so bright, and not just because of the darkness of the bar, and not just because of the wine. The hotel was just across Dam Square and without noticing the journey I was in the foyer and heading for the lift. I was completely alone in the mirrored box. As I looked at my reflection, I felt as if I was looking into the eyes of another girl - a beautiful stranger. We kissed, leaving a lipstick kiss on the glass. The girl in the mirror blushed. Then the door opened, the hallway was empty and I fumbled with the key and then I was inside and the door shut and double locked. I leaned back against the door, just as they do in the movies. Whatever was happening in the outside world, it sure as hell wasn’t happening in here! Now! This is important… I have a theory. If you truly love yourself then making love to yourself should be a decorous affair. There should be an invitation, a slow seduction, the gradual revealing of hidden desires. And so it was that the lady, the.
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