(This is part of my mail to John.)
(…) When we came home, I still needed to piss, but you only commanded me to the bathroom and made me stand straight before the sink with my hands folded behind my back. You turned on the water and then left me. Gosh, that was evil! But I managed not to wet myself. Have you been disappointed? 🙂 It took a while, but when you returned, you unzipped my trousers and put them and the undies down. My stiffy, been there for hours, was shiny with precum.
You took a look at your watch and just said “two minutes”, then began rubbing it relentlessly. Like so often before, I first did not think I could manage. The thoughts in my head went by very fast as I was looking for something to carry me to the orgasm I needed so desperately. “One and a half minute”, you reminded me. I tried my best to concentrate on your hand, your odour. “One minute”. Ugh. You counted down the last few seconds and when you had reached 2, I finally climaxed. But as I had been late, you paused for the split of a second, and I feared you’d stop, but then you kept going. I squirted the whole load into the sink (…) “Clean that up”, you told me, and I knew I was not supposed to use a tissue.