Chapter 8

After many days without sleeping, I decided what my future should be. I spent a couple weeks arranging all my job and family affairs, selling my apartment, my Harley and everything of value I had. I opened a bank account and dropped all the money there.

It was not a big fortune, but enough to help me live for a few years with a cheap job, if I could stop spending money in trivial things. Then I moved to Canada, as near to you as I could, but far enough to not interfere with your life. One of my main objectives was to avoid becoming obnoxious to you. I rented a tiny house that was indeed a couple rooms and a bathroom, separated from the back of a larger building, paying six months in advance. It was minimal but it was the cheapest thing I saw, and it had a quite decent look after all. This was important because I wanted you to be comfortable enough if you decided to come visit me sometime.

For a few days, I looked for an easy, free lance job that allowed me to manage my time as I needed. After a lot of interviews, I started as a waitress in a big cafeteria that hired students and were quite flexible with the work hours, admitting quick absents for exams and that kind of things if one could arrange with somebody else to cover shifts.

I bought a pager also, and then I sent you an email explaining it all:

"My dear Amo,

I belong to you but I couldn't be totally available to your will, until now. I dropped my former life to dedicate myself to serve you any time you want. I'm close enough now to be where you command me, any day, no matter what time.

The most important thing in my life is to be useful to you. I have a pager for your exclusive use. The number is (123)-456-7890.

Just leave me a message telling me what you want me to do and I'll do it.

Your slave,

Sally."

After sending it from a terminal at the library, I feel strangely free and calm, after many days of nervous and headaches. Suddenly I felt good, healthy, as if I had awaked from a long, bad dream.

I went home and sat on a chair, waiting. Time passed, and I started to feel more anxious, but well. More than six hours later, the pager finally rang. I had it in my hands, so I could see the letters appearing one by one, "Jenkins' Bar. The back door at the alley."

"Yes!" I shouted. I knew that bar. It was three blocks from your office. I rushed there, running across the streets as if the cops were chasing me. It took me less than five minutes to reach the alley. As I approached the back door of the bar, I looked to see you but you were not there. I stood there, trying to recover by breath while waiting. It was almost at night, and the alley was dark and lonely.

Around ten minutes later the door opened and you went out. "You are really here! I can't believe it. You came so quickly..." you told me, passing your hand behind my neck, under my hairs, and then pulling me against you to kiss me wildly. As we kissed, you took my hand and slipped it under your pants. I felt your warm cock already expanding under your underwear, so I explored around until I got my hand inside it, touching your flesh and hairs. I took the pipe and pulled it up, but it was almost impossible to move such a beast in that tight space. You took my head with both hands and make me knell in front of your bulk. I promptly unfastened your belt and unzipped the pants, liberating your meat, which jumped forward, slapping my face. I opened my mouth and placed my lips around the tip slowly, but then your hands and hips forced your whole tube inside my oral cavity, slamming it against my throat.