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“Would you like to come back here for the gig tonight?” As she steps back into the water I notice a look on her face. Unable to interpret the look, I ask if she is okay.“Oh I am fine, but, I will need to visit with my friend and will not be at your gig.”I lean in and give her a kiss. “Okay, please be careful and I will talk to you tomorrow morning!”I look up during a short break in the rehearsal and see her standing at the doorway blowing me a kiss goodbye. The feeling in my stomach after she blew me the kiss was not the cute little butterflies so many people say they get. It was more like someone poured a gallon jug of Willy Wonka’s fizzy lifting drink down my throat. I was feeling that I was shooting past cloud 9 and had no intention of stopping. Well, until the band leader let me know we were starting the next tune.Rehearsal over, I head back into the room and drop off my horn and check my computer for messages. The only message is from her letting me know she made it. ” Ona lead my gaze to Maria, Snakebite was a nasty tool and in my hands it had left her ass in a mess of double slashes. The hate burning silently in Maria’s gaze as she stared back into the mirror, small trickles of blood streaked her legs. I knew she would never forgive me for it but as Ona praised me with a playful slap. Sliding her thumb inside my mouth I didn't care about anything else. I wrapped my tongue around her soft little thumb and the flavour of her precum mixed with mine filled my mouth.“You may…” Ona paused biting her lip as my lusting gaze met her eyes. “Cum.” She whispered.Oh and did I, moaning with my eyes rolled into the back of my head. It was amazing, a feeling like nothing I had ever felt before took hold of me. This was not a simple orgasm, I had orgasmed through my ass pussy and my sissy clit several times since El had brought me here, no this was a physical and mental eruption of pure pleasure, every part of me vibrated on the word as it escaped her lips. I.
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In the end, he stressed the values of the treadmill, as it was about all I was going to be able to do. It took everything I had to crank out three minutes without collapsing. But something in the way I felt afterward… I knew the treadmill was my silver bullet. So, did I call that first day a fiasco? Maybe not. I began going every day. I’d stay for three hours at a time, trudging out three and five and seven minute increments at increasingly higher speeds, drowning my sorrows in the sweet nectar of water, sweating it out, allowing it to rid my body of the crap I’d allowed to be deposited there. Before three months had passed, I was walking for thirty minutes at a time at around two and a half miles per hour, and after a respite doing it again, sometimes four times in a single morning. I had sprung for an iPod, I loaded it with the music of my youth, arranged it all into fifteen and twenty and thirty minute increments, enough to keep me boppin’ to the beat. I was feeling great, and the.

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