Lesbian Toilet Encounter (Professionals in Private Book 1)

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then we started masturbating both the bull to his mouth. full load on his mouth. but we did not let him to close his mouth for the next 5 hours. What I didn’t expect was everything else that would happen to me — and is still happening to me — thanks to this one little week in my otherwise pleasantly uneventful life. I was captivated by what Eileen Myles told me at the time: “I know how to fight for what I want, to say no, when to wait. I’ve been in time for 65 years. I have a lot to share. That supposedly should only be in my teaching life — that’s not the case. It’s amazing on both sides to be able to share the world from different angles. It’s lively. It’s hot.” i have decided to do more advancement on him. evening i went to him again . i was just coming from toilet just wiped my shit not fully clean. i pull him down to floor and jumped on his face without any mercy and immediately put my ass on his face and command him to clean it with his toungue.he did it in a fear and first time he taste the shit. i gave him 1/2 bottle whisky ( i reduced the rewards). he is happy. We both like Justin Bieber, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, babies, spicy foods, and romantic comedies, as well as traveling, swimming, dressing up, having sex, being tall, biking (“cycling,” she’d say), and making detailed plans well ahead of time. We also appear, at this admittedly early stage, to be each other’s scarily perfect sexual complement; lesbian sex can look like a million and one different things, and we like so many of the same ones that it is, honestly, a miracle we ever got out of bed and did anything normal, like eat dinner or generally interact with other people. (Turns out, there was nothing wrong with me during my sad stretch of a dry spell after all — I just hadn’t been having the sex I actually wanted to have.)

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Our advice to any woman that wants to train a toilet slave is just tell them you saw something weird about male toilet slaves on the internet and ask them if they have ever seen it, and what they think about it. If they sound agreeable ask them have they ever thought about doing it. If they say yes, go for it. But, they probably will let you down. But there were, in fact, a number of stereotype-fulfilling boomer TERFs on board the cruise — and plenty of lesbians whose policing of gender norms took more banal forms. The woman who bought me a drink after I sang Kelly Clarkson at karaoke — a petite therapist from California with a prim gray bob — ended up being one of them. We all go through phases in life when we are curious about a lot of things—a girl may be curious about the body of another girl, but that doesn’t make her a lesbian, even if they take a bath together. I never wanted to know why she wished to see me naked. We never chose that moment to step into the bathroom of a girl's hostel together. We did it because we were curious. I would sleep in Alia’s bed that night and accidentally pat her butt in my sleep, my mind clearly deluding my body into believing I was still on the cruise with Lynette. Alia would very nicely not be weird about it.

I just don’t understand some of these women,” she said, looking around the room at the joyful group of dancing lesbians. “Why do they insist on making themselves so ugly? I’ve never gotten the whole butch thing.” A couple days later — after getting my serious lesbian conversations out of the way — I was about 14 rum punches deep and drunk-dancing on a catamaran. Eventually, once we’d reboarded the boat after our snorkeling, I did start talking with a few of the women I met at the Gen O mixer earlier that week, and it only took a couple of drinks for us to become the best of friends.

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As you can imagine, the better cameras are usually the ones you have to have a premium membership to see. In addition the hormones of the women which are swallowed with their pee and feces mix up the whole hormone situation in the body of the male victim nad this is enforcing the agony and delirious state until important organs like kidneys and heart finally give up. In my relationship, I often worried that I was taking on the femme role to my partner’s masc — the Wendy to their Peter — in ways that weren’t always positive or healthy. My partner got frustrated when I mentioned what I thought were our gendered roles; they thought I was projecting straight bullshit into a queer space where it didn’t need to be. We were lesbian and nonbinary dykes; we were supposed to be beyond gender.It’s been almost twenty years since I last saw her. But I still have the sketch I made—a shy girl with fierce eyes that dared people to do the unthinkable. Per the rules of our loose nonmonogamous agreement, I FaceTimed with my partner about what was happening on the cruise, first telling them about the catamaran girl and then, in so many words, about Lynette. I suspected, even early on, that I was about to break our most important rule of all: Don’t fall in love with anybody else. Tommy could never stand his mother's screaming so he went to his room immediately. After fifteen minutes Tommy heard his name called by his mother from the Entertainment room. Continue stroking him in a very slow pace, never allowing him to come. Talk to him, all the way, like to a baby or to a puppy. After he has finished his meal tie him in his primary position. Repeat this exercise for 2 to 3 weeks.

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I would tell my partner that I cared about them deeply, and the past five years were among the best of my life. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But I also felt like we had come to a crossroads, and we weren’t facing the same futures. I had tried so hard to see myself in their dreams, but now I was having dreams of my own. And I didn’t think I saw a future, even a part-time one, in Montana.

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I took care of boys — like my partner, like the person I’d dated before them, even like my cis college boyfriend — because I loved them, and that’s what you do for the people you love. I think there was also a part of me that liked tempering my fastidious long-term planning, my conventionalism, my seriousness with their wild spirits, their rejection of every social expectation. Queer bois, with their embrace of pleasure above most all else, in their refusal to adhere to the rules of heteropatriarchal capitalism — why grow up if it means becoming a cog in the machine? — seemed to embody a radical queer ethos I admired, and maybe felt the slightest bit jealous of. When you get him to where he can hold his breath for about 1 minute while you pee, it is time to move to shit. You are continuing to have him rim you regularly after you shit, right?