Dear Master Read Online Free Page B

trembling somewhat but I think I am ready to carry on typing again.
    Okay, well, first thing, as research, I decided to look at some Gloryhole porn on the internet, and I have to admit Master that it got me pretty hot and bothered. I’d never even heard of ‘gloryholes’ before this week, and I couldn’t believe that something like that actually exists in this very city!
    Watching those girls hungrily sucking away on anonymous cocks like that got me pretty horny for sure, but I was still unsure of whether I’d actually be able to do something like that.
    As I told you before, Master, I’d only been with three guys before this week, and only one of them had even let me suck on his dick at all.
    So I started to feel nervous, the more I thought about it.
    For instance, what if I just wasn’t able to get them off?
    What if I was a bad cocksucker?
    What if I didn’t like it?
    What if there was a really gross, smelly, diseased cock that came poking through?
    Would I have to suck that one too?
    All these silly little questions filled up my brain, Master, and I constantly wondered whether I had perhaps finally reached my limit — that invisible line that separates me from being a true slut or not. Because a true slut would eagerly suck on all those cocks, wouldn’t she, Master? A true slut wouldn’t even think twice about such a thing, right?
    And yet here I was, getting all nervy and worried and hesitant about going through with it.
    But still, I certainly didn’t want to disappoint you, Master, and so on Thursday night I got dressed and ready in my sluttiest outfit, just as you instructed me to. I wore a silky black g-string, the smallest one in my panty drawer, and a skin-tight black dress, too, and my knee-high leather boots, which, up until now I’d been far too shy to actually wear out of the house. I didn’t wear a bra either, Master. And before I left the house, I squatted down by my bed and took out my brand new shoebox of pleasure toys which I kept hidden away beneath my bed.
    I tugged my g-string to one side, worked a little squirt of lube into my tight, tingling asshole, then easily slipped that butt plug inside me. I’d had lots of practice by now, Master.
    That said, it felt so weird to stand up and actually leave the house like that, Master, feeling that bulbous thing filling up my ass, turning me on as I walked, the horny fluttering feelings intensifying with each new step I took.
    And I didn’t wear a coat either, Master, and I have to admit that I enjoyed the horny eyes of all the men I passed on me as I walked to the bus stop, my nipples rock hard from the cold night air, and poking out prominently from beneath my flimsy little dress.
    Going out like this wasn’t something I could have done even just a few short weeks ago, and I hope that I am showing myself to be a good little slut in training for you, Master.
    As the bus drew me nearer to the city centre, my heart began to pound, and by the time I’d reached Rialto’s I was positively trembling with nerves. I wasn’t sure if I could really go through with it. I checked the time on my cellphone: it was exactly 9pm. And so, with a final gulp, I stepped once more into that dirty, dimly lit store.
    The guy at the counter looked up at me from his magazine for a moment, then carried on reading. But this wasn’t the greasy dirty guy I’d seen from before. This guy was a little older, and looked perhaps like one of my father’s friends; he had dark intense eyes, and was clean cut, with salt and pepper hair. There were a few guys browsing around the edges of the room, one was dressed in jeans and a sweater, and looked around the same age as me, strolling casually amongst the aisles of DVDs and magazines, but a few of the other guys looked rather creepy and weird, their dirty little eyes fixed on my tits and pussy …
    I swallowed nervously, wondering if I was really about to go through with this. 
    I could feel the steely black eyes of the clerk at