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A sexual problem at the airport

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A half hour before my uncle's flight is due to arrive, I went into the bathroom and removed the dildo from my bag. I slid it into my male cunt and pull up snug black jeans to hold it into place. Im wearing a redbutton down shirt, and the lacy edges of a black bra peek out at the v-neck. The black pants and the red shirt are nicely matched by thered-bottomed pumps on my feet. As instructed, I began the long walkfrom the end of the terminal where I am to the far end, where his plane will be landing. I remembered what he told me - No tram. No moving sidewalks. Just you, walking the entire length of the terminal, while that dildo torments your man twat.

Ive only passed a couple of gates, and my boy pussy is already dripping. Mybreath was quickening. I look down the terminal - my destination is still far out of sight - and I wonder if I should regret ever having to do that,walking like a queen with a dildo in my man beaver.

As I walk, the sensation builds, my anal juice continue to flow. I tried to distract myself from the growing heat in my boy twat. I thought about the time that he tied me face down on the bed, wrists and ankles cuffed tothe posts at the corner, and spanked me until my ass was as bright as the fuck-me red on the bottom of these shoes, and even with the gag inmy mouth my screams threatened to wake the neighbors. Id been bad that time - disobeyed you, and needed to be punished. This time I wouldnt make that mistake.

My rectum pulsed in time to my steps, and I looked up at the signs overhead. Gate 15. Only 60 more to go. Oh God.

Gate by gate, I walked along the terminal. I looked into the shops as I pass, looking for clothing that you might find appealing, or some implement of pleasure or pain hiding in plain sight. Every time my breath starts to come too quickly and I fear I might ejaculate, I remembered the consequences, remember what its like to have my boy twat slapped, my nipples clamped, or to be forced to urinate down my bound legs when you wouldnt let me get up or release them so that I could go to the bathroom. I blushed hard at that last memory, ashamed that I could be sodisobedient that you would have to punish me so harshly.

stewbaker Uploaded 11/01/2009
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