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I don't know what thoughts go through your head as I do. You're standing there, tired, aching, your ass still on fire, your prick demanding attention, your balls preventing you from going anywhere, your arms useless. Whatever your thoughts, I'm sure they aren't complimentary. You hear water running in the kitchen, and I return a few moments later carrying a glass. You see me take a sip and then motion with the glass. "Drink this." I hold it to your lips and watch you guzzle it down. When the glass is empty I carry it over to an end table and set it down. "You can clean that up later." |