I slurped our juices from him until he was clean and soft and he put his cock back in his jeans. The driver just sat in his seat looking at us. “Fuck your fucking hot!” Master laughed, “She is this slut of mine.” I was standing there with cum dripping out of my pussy and a butt plug in my arse that was threatening to come out from all the action. I looked at Master John pleadingly. “We are nearly there my slut.” He said. “You will have to sit in your cum soaked skirt and coat until we get there. Remember, don’t let any of it get on the seat. Master promised that you wouldn’t spill a drop.” I pulled my skirt down and took my coat off and lay it on the seat so I could sit on it. I tidied my clothes the best I could, reapplied lippy and gloss and pulled my hair out then flipped it up into a bun. The driver started the car and within 5 minutes we were parked outside the Hotel. Master John paid the driver and got my luggage from the boot. I slipped out of the car, took my coat that was. Love you.”“Love you too.”It felt strange. They were talking as if they were only going to be apart for a short while; that they were still lovers, yet they both knew that there was little chance of them ever meeting again. When they were in the process of parting, she did not invite him to Vancouver, and he did not invite her to return for a holiday. He thought it was because they both knew that meeting again would be too painful and would simply prolong the agony.He shrugged, threw the cold tea away and extracted his (and her) favourite malt. Mindful of work the next day he allowed himself only two drams, and went to bed.The next morning set the pattern for days to come. He awoke and immediately knew he was alone. Then came dread, which passed, followed by a dead feeling of emptiness and sadness.That first Wednesday it came as a shock: he had mentally rationalised his situation. Only thirty-seven days. Yes she was beautiful, yes with a totally compatible character and a wonderfully.
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