(This is part of my mail to John.)
You made me sit in the chair, watching you. I was so jealous, I would not have been surprised if I had gotten a stroke! (…) I wanted to get up and come over, but one look of you was sufficient to keep me in place. (…)
“Play with yourself”, he told me, and you laughed. I felt so humiliated, but to my surprise, this really turned me on. (…)
Wanking was a bland replacement for what you did with him. (…)
I knew I could not cum, and that made me feel even more ashamed. (…)
When he was gone (…) you told me to prepare bathing water for you. (…) You made me wash you all over, and it was then I fully realized I did not need to cum everytime and that having sex without climaxing could be as fulfilling. It gave me satisfaction to wash and massage your body and (…) give you a handjob, just to make you feel even more relaxed.