My mover is increasing his grip. While I continue to lead a completely normal life as an office worker, he demands, without my being able to resist him, to support Aline as soon as the home resumes its rights.I could easily lie, but I can't. As soon as I come home, I am no more than her. Aline's wardrobe opens, with its drawers underneath and her skirts and dresses lined up, her tops well hung. In the bathroom, another small armoirette is reserved for beauty. About an hour after my arrival, I am generally ready. As if I had to go out, but of course I don't go out, at least never near my house.He never comes, taking the risk of seeing my sexual needs lead me to another. As my recent trip to Paris and Brittany (see the previous story) showed, he is not jealous, and moreover he says it: "fuck with whoever you want!" "Just one evening, he passed quickly, just to switch me on the sofa, open my thighs by lifting my skirt, introduce me unceremoniously his cudgel and end up releasing his seed deep inside me. Thirty minutes, including aperitif to follow, that I served him as a good submissive female, his sperm still flowing down my thighs. I have the impression of being the always ready mistress of a man who is never there, but it is so good!I can't change gender publicly. He regrets it but understands. Suddenly, he wants me to be very female when we are elsewhere. A few days ago, to see, he wanted to make me “the ultimate female” according to him, the one who offers her body. Finally, offer ...Thanks to a new move, he takes me in his truck to Lyon, dressed very sexy as he had requested. Not far then. His drop-off point is in Saint-Priest, he drops me near a bus stop, not without having ordered me to give him my credit card. Not to use it, but to be sure that I won't circumvent his orders by going to the ATM. Because the instructions are clear: "Go to the platforms, or wherever you like, be a whore, I want you to come back with a minimum of € 200." They will be for you of course. You have four hours, so I can finish what I have to do ”.I am terrified. I know very little Lyon, I'm afraid of finding myself in a bag of trouble with "proxos". So, neither one nor two, in the tram, I strum and I find quite easily, on a site, a man who makes it clear that he would be ready to pay a job. Luckily, he is live, he answers, gives a meeting point in Vieux-Lyon. To get there, I must, at the end, walk for at least 300 meters, there are people. I'm ashamed, I feel like I'm being looked at for who I am, a prostitute.Arrival at the meeting point, no one. I am almost reassured when my cell phone vibrates. He's still on the site. In fact, he's watching me from a window on the third floor two houses away. He gives me the digital code and I take the stairs, more and more stressed. When he opens it to me, I see a pretty cute guy, in his forties, well built. He greets me politely and lets me in. "Hello, Aline, hello, Jacques, if you want to sit down ..." Then, immediately: "first of all, let me give you this", an envelope that he puts on my bag. I put it away. "Aren't you checking? »Horribly embarrassed, I admit that this is a first for me, that I have received orders, that I am not used to…His smile widens, his eyes light up ... "All I love, a beginner ..." He takes my hand and puts it directly on his pants. "You must feel that I like it, beginners, right?" Sure enough, he is growing fast in his fabric prison and I can't help but grip my fingers on his manhood, but his hands are weighing down on my shoulders and forcing me to kneel down. Mine can only attack his belt that I undo before lowering the zip. He has no underpants! His tail sprang, already erect, in front of my face! And from there, it's a complete discrepancy between words and deeds ..."Show me you're a good bitch!" », He orders. I expect the next few hours to be tough, but as I start to run and run my tongue over his cock, he is extraordinarily gentle, stroking my neck, my now bare shoulders as I swallow it up. Believing that everything will go wrong, I suck him diligently, to quickly make him come and he sends me back before things go wrong.But no, he remains pleasant in his gestures, almost attentive, while his mouth comes out of the horrors: "but what trail you do, bitch, you must eat miles of cock." When he picks me up and pushes me towards the sofa bed, I believe my last hour has arrived when he brandishes a riding ...

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