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I could feel a tingle between my legs.His face turned red as he confessed that he'd like to photograph me with another man. At first I was shocked and flat out said no. However, the tingle between my legs made me want to say yes. My mind was racing, for a while he had been bringing home magazines with stories about couple who do this. I must admit the stories turned me on too.What if I said OK? I heard myself ask. How would we go about it? Would you really want me to let someone fuck me?. We all went back to sleep. I wondered where this all would take me. Early next morning, before everybody woke up, Mr. Mkome brought me to his studio. In the back he stores his sculptures in a big heap. They all look the same. Some tall black god with fierce features, carved in ebony. But seen from the back they all look like a big black phallus. The large fangled head is perfectly sculpted, the shaft wide and veiny. My jaw dropped. Mr. Mkome asked if I wanted to see the model for his. 'Long story short, I did. I fucked her in my car, in her husband's bed, in my boss's office. I invited my buddy Glenn to join me and we fucked her in both holes. I could feel his cock (which was bigger) through the thin membrane as I pumped away in her ass. Wild stuff.It lasted for about four years, I met other women, none as crazy as the first, but for about 10 years I lived a completely double life.Then came sexual harassment laws, the increasing sensitivity to my potential liability (all my. But a strange feeling of relief washed over me. I think I’m starting to think this man can actually help me. There may soon come a day when I can be the woman my husband deserves.He gave me a moment to catch my breath. Then he said, “I know this is difficult for you. But you are progressing wonderfully. You should be very proud of yourself. Now, you know what comes next. You need to be brave. Do it, Rebecca.”I can hear the blood pounding in my ears as I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my.
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