Indisputably guilty Morgan hung his head. He didn’t protest or sulk however. And the bulge in his pants was throbbing so hard I could see the rhythmic movement of the fabric. What had happened to all his self-centered entitlement? We were definitely onto something with this…
~
So after only one evening’s experimenting, Mister Macho, my hung-like-a-horse young stud-husband had already exposed himself as a bit of a closet sissy. He actually seemed to enjoy being ordered around by me, to say nothing of humbling himself before me and treating me with a kind of abject reverence.
Whether this impulse came naturally, was truly driven by rapist’s remorse or was merely some kind of con-job, Morgan’s latest gambit in the endless quest to seduce me, we would have to wait and see. I was going to ma
