. . .I wish I could say I worshiped his cock. But I was living in the nape of my own neck. Oh, I sucked his cock. Tongue darting out and teasing, stroking with my fingers and whole hand. I put on the whole show and I wanted him in my mouth. Wanted him anyway I could have him. But my desire had migrated beyond cock in mouth or cock in cunt or cock at all. I was under those fingers, that hand, this perfect grip. He flexed his fist from time to time squeezing my hair along with it. It never hurt, not an ounce. It was just a rare opportunity to bend to his will.

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