Nervous free porn video

He made me nervous. He always makes me nervous. And that, honestly, deep down inside of me, turns me on. It's no small part of why I do all of this. It's no small part of who I am. So it's no small part of why I'm kneeling here in my bedroom and why he's standing there before me. Standing there and making me nervous and afraid and embarrassed and... turned on. It's a times like these when I question just why it is that I'm into all this "sissy play" to begin with. I'm a straight man. I've no interest in having sex with other men. Even with other sissies. Oh, I enjoy being around other "gurls" when we're all en femme - but always and only when our ladies are there in charge. In charge of me and in charge of the other guys dressed up in their sissy outfits. I'm not even attracted to the shemales or the actual transgendered. I can admire their dedication to pursuing their fetish and how they've transformed their bodies. And I truly love how utterly feminine some of them have been able to become as a result. But... they're still guys. Even if their little willies can no longer get hard thanks to all the Spiro and Estra and whatever other hormones they've taken to become so wonderfully gurly. No, I'm a fully hetero man and even though I've gone to great, great lengths to be as feminine as I can be and look as sexually alluring as I can, I'm still only interested in actual women when it comes to my sexual playmates. That doesn't stop me from being nervous when he's around. Nervous and turned on. Part of it is how effortlessly he's now ruling not only me but also my partner, Claire. We've been together for years now and she is my partner, my lover, my best friend and my Mistress. She truly "gets me" and my coming out to her - coming out as a crossdresser - actually brought us closer. I was horrified that it might not but, thankfully, it didn't. She actually enjoyed having a "life sized Barbie doll" to dress up and play with. And when she discovered just how submissive I get when dressed she realized it turned her on. I couldn't believe how lucky I was with that and I became even more devoted to her than ever before. She loved that to. It didn't surprise me then, when she told me of her fantasies of cuckolding me. I was afraid of that even as I'd had those fantasies too. I didn't want to lose her. It was scary and a major turn-on for us both when we began exploring that sort of play. The more we explored, the more comfortable and secure we both got with it and the further we were able to go with it. I'm now caged 24/7 and she became my key holder. I never leave the house without wearing my panties and nylons under my regular "boy drag" clothes. My toenails are always manicured and polished to perfection. I've not a hair on my body from my neck down. At home on the weekends it's almost always one of several maids outfits for me. Especially when she's entertaining some of the other dominas we've befriended. I love that. I learned to also love when she has me dress up as her maid and servant when she brought another man into our house as her lover. The humiliation of that was burning. And it made my cock painfully hard in its chastity cage. My panties were soaking from all the precum I was oozing from it. We were quite careful in choosing who, exactly, she brought home. The guys were all carefully vetted by our friends in the kink community from the parties we'd been to. No strangers off the street, thank you very much. This worked out pretty well, for the most part. The guys we chose got quite the deal. They got to play the role of the bull and get some nice hard sex with my girl while I waited on them hand and foot. Some of the guys clearly wanted to be in my position and hoped that my Mistress would choose them for it. Chose them over me. Those guys never got invited back. And my gratitude to my Mistress for that only deepened my devotion, deepened my submission, and deepened my love for her. So we kept on enjoying our mutual fetish. Then we met Michael. He was quite the impressive specimen. Tall, well muscled, handsome, and had a radiantly dominant personality. He was truly an "alpha male" and Claire couldn't take her eyes off of him at that party. I was in fully sissy mode at that event and happily fulfilled my role of tending to my Mistress's needs. She was the one who approached him - with me in tow at the end of her leash attached to my chastity cage. She later told me that she originally just intended chatting with him to make me squirm and put me in my place that evening. That may have been her intent but it wasn't Michael's. Turns out my Mistress had caught his eye as well - and not out of any desire to submit to her or even to just get a good fuck that evening. One thing led to another and we were all soon back at our place and he was bedding my lady in our bed. It was the "usual" sort of cuckolding scene except that it wasn't. He was in charge, not her. In all the previous times it was my lover who was in command both of me and of the men she'd brought into our home. Not this time. Not with Michael. Not at all. And Claire loved it. His dominance and control was just so damn effortless on his part. Nothing arrogant or crass. Just simply there as if it were preordained and natural. He was magnetic that way. I felt it to and was both turned on and appalled by it. I was confident in the trust and depth of my relationship with my Mistress that I shouldn't have worried that he might be the one to get between it all. But I was worried and I was afraid. And I was turned on. And he knew it. And she knew it. Soon enough he became a regular guest in our home. At least once a month, to start with. Then every other weekend. Then every weekend. Then he moved in. And I was moved to our guest bedroom. I still shared the bed with my Mistress but only when Michael is away on one of his frequent business trips. In the meantime he came to rule our household. And my Mistress loved it. She reveled in how effortlessly he directed her and controlled her. He controlled me as well. But it was through her. He too was completely hetero. I hoped. There was never anything sexual in his control. Well, nothing direct. He was the one who ordered me to clean her pussy out after he was done coming inside my lover. He had her clean his cock off with her tongue. And then ordered her to give me a nice deep French kiss so that I could "clean her tongue" as well. She loved that and I, honestly, loved how controlling he was. Even as the taste of his cum filled my mouth as I sucked it off of Claire's tongue. Even as I was still nervous about how far he'd go. As time passed, he began getting even more kinky with my lady. And she enjoyed that very, very much. Not only is she now wearing his collar she's also now been shown around in public as his submissive. This, while she's holding my leash at the same parties. It's an odd dynamic and I actually enjoy being the "submissive's submissive." The fear that I might lose her to this powerful dominant man is turn on for me. And it frightens me at the same time. My nervousness only worsened when he announced he wanted to use my lover, my Mistress, as his ponygirl. That was a new sort of play she and I had never gotten in to. I always found it too objectifying and Claire never had an interest in doing it with me anyway. With Michael however, she was only too eager to take that bit into her pretty mouth and let him hold her reins. That's why I'm kneeling here and am so nervous now. She's wearing her newest ponygirl outfit. It's a clear latex catsuit thing that shows her lovely curves in a wonderful way. I've just spent the last few minutes helping her into the outfit and then shining the latex up for her. And shining it for him as he's directed me where to apply the polish and go back over where I might've "missed." Then I helped her into her harness. I didn't do the tail part however. That is for him and that's how I wound up on my knees. He ordered me to them as he inserted the horse tailed butt plug into place. Anything sexual like that with her is now his to enjoy, not mine. Fully plugged, he smacked my Mistress on her butt and sent her scampering to finish putting the makeup on her face. Then he leaned back on the edge of our bed and waited. And that's when the nervousness began to escalate in me. He's there in his riding outfit and is filling it out wonderfully. His riding breeches are skin tight and only show just how powerful his legs are and how gorgeous an ass he has. I've gotten quite familiar with that sight as I've gotten to see it many a time flexing as he plows his cock deep into my lover on our bed while I stand at the foot of that bed, shackled, gagged, caged, in my heels, nylons, lace gloves, and maid's outfit holding a glass of water and a towel for him. His riding outfit jacket is tightly tailored to his muscular physique. It must be quite sturdily made as it hasn't shredded itself despite his muscles rippling beneath it. He's already got his leather gloves on and is idly toying with a crop in his hands. More than anything however, are his boots. His English riding boots. They are brilliantly shiny - as they should be since it is one of my jobs to keep them so - and only emphasize how tall he is and how powerful his legs are. Looking up at them from my kneeling position makes them seem impossibly long and him seem impossibly tall. Tall and commanding and utterly dominant. The bulge in those breeches he's wearing seems to get bigger the more I glance at it. It's times like this where my nervousness truly is unnerving. I'm a straight heterosexual male who has no interest in other men. Yet I can only think of throwing myself onto those boots of his and worshipping them. Worshipping them as only is proper for a sissy cuckold to worship the superior Alpha male that is about to ride and mount his lover. I quickly glance up and make the mistake of looking at him directly. He's looking down at me and he clearly knows what's going on in my head. He clearly sees the confusion and the fear and the attraction there. A smile forms on his handsome face. And my nervousness turns into a cold sweat as a crimson blush flows across my face. "Becka!" he calls out to my Mistress using her pony name, "come here, now!" He orders in that resonantly commanding voice of his. My Mistress, my lover, my partner - and his collared submissive and objectified ponygirl - eagerly and quickly answer's her Master's command by trotting herself into our bedroom. She had just gotten her makeup finished and her headstall on but not yet fully buckled. It's remaining straps hung loose as she stood before her Master. I loved how happy and turned on she looked and quickly brought my eyes down and hoped the moment was broken to the point of being soon forgotten. I was wrong. "Ah, my Becka. My pretty pony Becka. Your headstall isn't fully on yet," he gently chided her. "Let me finish that for you." Even wearing his gloves he was deftly able to secure the last of the straps into their buckles and then clipped the reins to the rings on either side of the bit in her mouth. Usually he then leads his ponygirl out into the backyard of our house to put her through her paces with the various dressage routines he's worked up for her. She's gotten quite adept at prancing around in so very precise and so very a sexy manner under his commands. Once he's satisfied with his ponygirl's progress in her training he sets her to a lunge line to cool her down before brushing her down and then coming inside. That's when - if she's been a very good ponygirl - he usually ties those reins off to a ring set in the corner post of our bed and then mount his pretty, pretty ponygirl. This, while I attend her Master. Of course. Tonight however, my nervousness changed all of that. Instead of leading his pony out for practice he put on her hobbles and then clipped her wrist cuffs together behind her. She'd already started slipping into "subspace" as she does so easily under his touch and especially when he takes hold of her reins when she's his pony. So she didn't even question it as he led her to one side of the bed and ran those reins through their hook. He softly stroked her face as he turned her to face me. He then resumed his position leaning back on the end of our bed and he called out to me directly. My nervousness turned into near panic when he called out my sissy name. "Donna, come here. Now," he commanded. I swallowed deeply and quickly scrambled to my feet and stepped over to where he was pointing to before him with his crop. I then felt that crop poking at my chest between my breast forms as he stood himself upright from the bed. "Take a step back, Donna," he ordered. Still not daring to look up, I complied. I risked looking over at my Mistress as she stood there, reined and bound and her eyes were intently upon me. "Good sissy," Master Michael said. "Now, on your knees again," he ordered. I quickly complied and both feared and hoped it be just some brief disciplining with that crop. I was, again, wrong. "You were looking at my boots," he said. Not as a question, just as a statement of fact. I felt another blush explode across my face. "Yes, my boots. The boots I have you shine so carefully. Shine as is only fitting that you keep them shined. They are the boots I wear when I take your girl and ride her. I wear these boots when I mount her. I wear these boots when I master her. So, it is only right that you keep them shined. Isn't it, Donna?" he asked in so commanding and penetrating a tone. I fumbled for a response as my mind was awash with so many conflicting emotions. "Did you miss any spots on these boots, Donna? Are you sure? Perhaps if you got a closer look at them? Yes, do that. Lean down and examine my boots. Bring your face to them. Yes, girl, just like that." His voice was almost hypnotic. He had sat back on the bed again and pushed one booted foot out as I leaned down to comply with his orders. My face was now but inches away from its highly polished surface. The smell of the leather and the polish filled my nostrils and raced right down to my cock. I've worshipped now few boots and shoes in my life - but always and only when they've been worn by a woman. Not when worn by a man. "That's it sissy, breathe that scent in fully. You smell that leather? You smell that polish? Those are on my boots. The boots I am wearing when I mount this little bitch here at the end of these reins I hold. The boots I wear when I take your girl and make her scream from how well I fuck her. Close your eyes sissy and breathe in only through your nose. That's it girl. Breathe in that way so the scent is even more powerful." "Good girl. Breathe in and think of how wonderfully hard and shiny and tall these boots are. See that in your mind's eye as you see how your woman begs to have my cock inside her. That's it, breathe in." I did breathe in. And I did envision those boots and that turned me on. And the image of him wearing those boots while Claire squealed in ecstasy beneath him made me wince with pleasure. "Open your eyes, sissy. Open them and kiss my boot. Kiss it, sissy. Kiss it and lick it. Kiss it, lick it and worship it. Your Mistress does. Your Mistress has. Your lover does. Your lover has. If I took off her reins and took that bit out of her mouth she'd be down there right now - pushing you aside so that she could kiss and lick and worship my boot." He spoke right into my core with those words. And I heard my Mistress whimper as those words spoke to her core as well. I began to kiss the boots. I began to lick the boots. Their scent... His commands... The pain of my chastity cage as my cock desperately tried to burst through it... The smell of my perfume as it mixed with that leather and polish scent... The feel of my lipstick as it ran across the shined surface of those boots... The image of my precisely manicured fingernails with their ruby red polish was I caressed his boots with them... The way the weight of my breast forms pulled at the bra holding them in place as I bent over to those boots... The way my panties were pulling up from my bending over to those boots... It was all wrong. This was a man who's boots I was worshipping. This was a straight man who was turning me on with his boots. This was a hetero Master who was having me submit to him by kissing his boots. His beautiful, powerful, sexy, shiny, smooth leather boots. My nervousness was still there but had turned itself into lust. Even as I cradled his boot in my hands and began slathering across it with my tongue I knew it was all wrong. And it was all made worse by hearing my lover's moans as she was losing herself to the same lust as well. Master Michael brought that boot up and forced me back onto my knees as he did so - still cradling his boot and worshipping it. "That's it sissy. That's it. Make sure you get every bit of it with your tongue. Worship it like you worship that dildo your Mistress fucks you with. That's it. That's a good sissy girl. That's it. Imagine my boot is just one big shiny smooth dildo for you to worship and suck on like a good little sissy. That's it..." My nerves were on fire as I almost feverishly complied with his commands. My Mistress whimpered helplessly tied off to the bed at his side. He pulled his boot away from me and left me kneeling there, slack jawed and panting with lust. He laughed at that. Not a cruel laugh but laughed, none-the-less. "Oh, poor little sissy. Nothing to kiss and worship?" he mocked. "Up. Up! Up on your feet, sissy!" he commanded. Again, I scrambled to comply. "There," he ordered, pointing with his crop. "Back to your place." I quickly minced to my spot. "Down on your knees, sissy," he snapped. He stood up again and unhitched the reins from their bedpost ring. With a few tugs on those reins he maneuvered my lover into position at the end of the bed. He then reached over on to the bed and took hold of the lunge line he'd laid there for me to bring outside as he played with my Mistress. Instead, he snapped the line to her collar and then threaded the rest of it through the ring set into the footboard's center. He drew the line through it and thus forced my lover to bend over at her waist. Then he tied it off. She was panting with lust and not caring at the drool dripping from around the bit still in her mouth. Michael then stepped around to the rear of his pretty pony girl and reached between my Mistress's legs to take hold of the zipper there. He smoothly pulled it away from her skin and up between her legs, opening the catsuit and exposing her engorged and very, very wet pussy. She moaned through her bit as the air was suddenly upon those luscious lips of her pussy. A few quick moves and he'd opened the front of his riding breeches to let his already hard cock come forth. He grasped the tail of the buttplug to move it out the way and lined up his cock with my lover's pussy. Claire whimpered in lust as she felt his shaft touch her swollen and wet pussy lips. Touch them but only that. He then gathered up her reins and turned his attention back to me. "Here, sissy, since you've been such a good sissy girl worshipping that first boot, you can now worship this other one," he said, pointing with the crop in his free hand. "No, don't get up. Crawl. Crawl on your hands and knees to worship my boots. Crawl as I mount your woman above you. Crawl, sissy. Crawl to worship my boots." I too whimpered with lust and got down on my hands and knees to crawl to him. The ache from my cock was constant now. As was the flow of precum oozing from it. The plug in my ass felt even larger now. I quickly brought myself down onto his boots and began worshipping them. As I slathered my tongue and my lips and my kisses upon them I felt him move above me. The cry my Mistress made told me that his shaft was now fully inside her. That he was now mounting her. I angled my head so I could try and see what was happening above me. What I saw made my cock pulse. He had the reins in both his hands and was pulling on them sharply to force her back onto his cock as he mounted her. He plowed into her and drove her forward. With her legs hobbled together and with her being tied off bent over as she was, she couldn't keep her balance so she began to fall forward and came mostly off of his cock as she did so. Only the reins, held taut in his fists, kept her upright. And as she teetered forward he drew those reins sharply back and impaled her anew on his shaft. I must've slowed in my devotion to his boots enough for him to have noticed as he quickly gathered the reins in one hand and used the other to bring the crop down on my ass. "Dammit, sissy! I didn't tell you to stop! Did I?" he barked as the crop snapped onto my ass. I quickly began worshipping his boots again. He then used the crop to lift my skirt up out of the way to expose my panty covered ass cheeks. With some maneuvering, he was now able to start cropping my bared flesh and did so in rhythm to his impaling my Mistress with his thick cock. A few strokes like this and she began bucking and moaning as a climax burst through her. His fucking her in this manner was near brutal. The pulling on the bit was harsh and she had to keep her head bent downward to run the reins along her shoulders and back so that the force went along there instead of fully into her mouth. Even so, the bit was digging into her painfully. And it was turning her on fiercely. She realized that he was using her as a sexual prop and that I, her feminized, chaste, and cuckolded sissy was where his attentions actually was. That made her cum again as she realized it. "That's it sissy," he spat the words out with each thrust of his cock into her pussy. "Worship those boots. Get your tongue into it. Let me feel your lips on my boots. Worship them, sissy. Worship them as I fuck you Mistress like the bitch in heat she is. Worship them! Yesssss....." I lost myself in the act of submission to this man and his boots. My world became just the hard shiny leather in front of me. The scent of that leather soon became mixed with the scent of my Mistress's pussy above me as his mounting her brought her to one powerful climax after another. She was tied off and being used like a sexual object and I was abasing myself at his feet worshiping his boots even as he used my lover so ruthlessly and forcefully above me. The intensity of it all was awesome. So much so that it took me a moment to realize that the motion above me had stopped. I dared glance up again. He was fully impaled into her and was brutally pulling the reins taught as he ground himself deeply into her. From the growl that emanated through his clenched teeth, I could tell he was finally cumming and firing his seed deep into my lover's pussy. From the way her legs were shaking and the near incoherent moans she was making, I could tell she was climaxing again herself. They stayed like that for a moment. They stayed like that for an eternity. Finally, the wave of ecstasy they both were riding crested and washed through them. He breathed out and let the reins slide through his fingers a bit. She slowly slipped forward and came off of his shaft. He bucked his hips forward to push her fully off of his cock and down on to the bed. He stood there, the last bit of the reins still in his fingers, his cock glistening with her juices and his seed, and me with my lips still upon his boots. He leaned his head back and sighed happily. Then he looked back down at what was before him. His ponygirl - my Mistress - lay splayed on the bed in front of him. Her inflamed pussy well and truly fucked and drooling his cum out of it. She lay there, still in her pony tack and harness, bound and utterly blissed out from being so well mounted by her Alpha Male Master. And there I was. Fully feminized and emasculated in my sissy maid's uniform, my nylons, my garters holding them up, my cock safely locked away in its cage, the plug stuffing my ass, and my lips worshipping his sexy, hard, and shiny riding boots. He truly was the master of all he surveyed. He knew it. I knew it. She knew it. And we all loved it. Using the crop again, he put its tip under my chin to move me off his boots and me to one side. He then bent down and removed the hobbles on my Mistress's ankles. Tapping the inside of her thighs to spread her legs, he then used the crop to direct her further onto the bed. He stepped back and turned to me again. "Crawl to me, sissy. Crawl to your Master. Crawl to my boots," he ordered, the lust still in his voice. I eagerly crawled to him and was about to begin worshipping his boots again. Before I could however, he ordered me again. "Turn, sissy. Turn around to your Mistress. Look at her, sissy. Look at her pussy. You see it gaping? I did that. Me, her Master. I did that with my cock. I fucked your woman so well her pussy is gaping from it. Gaping and drooling my cum out of it. Gaping from a fucking like you never could give her. Could you, sissy?" His words cut to my soul. Cut to my soul and turned me on as well. "You worshipped my boots well. Like a good sissy girl. You pleased me with that. Your Mistress obviously enjoyed that too. So, you've earned a reward" he commandingly said. I felt the tip of his crop pushing between my shoulder blades and I shuffled myself forward to my Mistress's well fucked pussy. "Put your face into it, Sissy. Put your mouth onto her pussy and clean her out. Clean out all my cum I just shot into your woman's pussy. Clean her out and lap it all up," he ordered as he pressed the crop firmly onto me. It wasn't the first time I'd cleaned her pussy after he'd made love to her and filled it with his cum. But it had always been she who ordered me to bring my tongue to her lips and lick his seed from them. Now it was he who was doing the ordering. The feelings I was experiencing were intense and heated and powerful as I began tasting his cum and her juices on my tongue. I lapped and I licked and I sucked at her pussy. My Mistress began moaning anew. I have truly become an expert at pleasing her with my tongue and I focused myself utterly on doing so again now. After minute or two I'd managed to suck out and lick up all of his cum from her pussy and I started to lean back onto my knees when I felt his crop stopping me. I held my position as I felt him lift up my skirt with that crop. My nervousness returned again even more powerfully. Part of me knew that his fucking me at that moment would be a right and proper thing for a sissy to experience. He'd just mounted my Mistress and had just pushed my face into the pussy he'd just fucked and spent himself into. So it would've been completely appropriate for him to also then mount the sissy who had submitted to him as well. But, I wasn't gay. And neither was he. I knew that but, at this moment, and after the intensity we'd all just shared... I was incredibly turned on and.... Nervous. He used his crop to push my face back into her pussy. "Now you may worship her pussy just like you worshipped my boots" he directed me. "Worship it, sissy, and you may cum. You may cum like the sissy you are," he told me as I felt his crop trace down my backside and between my ass cheeks. As I began lapping away at my Mistress's clit she began writhing and cooing with pleasure. She was exceedingly wet and I knew that she was getting quite close to having another climax. It was then that I felt Michael hitting the plug in my ass with that crop. He began setting up a rhythm with it and with each strike it sent a jolt through the plug into my prostate. The waves of pleasure from that began to build. It was all too much. I was too on edge. I was too confused. I was too turned on. I was too deep in my sub space. I'd been too long in chastity and too desperate for release. I was too inflamed. And... And... I came. I felt the pressure building and moaned as it exploded through me. My Mistress - my lover - knows me and knows my sounds. As she heard me moan that drove her over too and her pussy began spasming around my tongue as her climax enveloped her. All of which just deepened the climax I was rolling in. Rolling in despite my cock still being tightly and painfully locked away in its chastity cage. I'd never done that before. I'd never cum while still locked away. Even as the pleasure exploded through me, part of my mind contemplated that I might now never be unlocked again. That, if I could cum while caged, why should I, as a sissy, ever be unlocked anyway? That thought was both terrifying and even more of a turn on. The pulsing of my cock in its cage only worsened and my jism made my panties even more soggy and sticky than they already were. I slumped forward from the intensity of it all. My leaning into my Mistress's pussy and ass drove her further onto the bed. We both floated in that wonderful bliss of a deep, deep climax. As I wafted along in that blissful cloud I became aware that Michael was now standing close behind me and had brought his face next to my ear. In a low voice he spoke to me again. "I rule here. I own you. I own you as I own her. You serve her. She serves me. You serve me. I rule here. I rule her. I rule you. You are her sissy. You are my sissy. If you serve her well you will have pleased me and I may let you cum. If you serve me well I may let you cum. I own you, sissy." I was so terribly and completely confused. My emotions were a jumble. I could only whisper, "Yes, sir," in response. "Good girl" he said, soothingly. He stood up and backed up. And in his commanding voice he once again took charge of his two submissives. "Sissy, crawl to your place. Becka, up! Up! That's it my sweet ponygirl." He helped her get to her feet and then began gently removing her pony tack. Once she was nude he had her help him undress. I continued to kneel in my position and felt my cock aching in its cage and the mixture of her juices and his cum in my mouth and drying upon my face. Eventually, he was undressed and once again turned his attention to me. Nude before and with cock still thick and heavy between his legs. "Sissy," his voice commanding as usual, "your worshiping of my boots pleased me but your doing so has left them smeared with your lipstick and saliva. That won't do. Take them to your room and clean them polish them. Again. I will inspect them before breakfast tomorrow. Once you've properly finished tending to my boots tonight you may change out of your uniform and get to your bed. We will expect breakfast as usual tomorrow morning. Now, I wish to make love to your Mistress again so, off with you," he ordered. My Mistress just whimpered happily at the prospect of being driven to even more climaxes as I scampered out of the room with his boots. Later, with my gloved fingers stained with shoe polish as I worked on those boots I could hear the unmistakable sounds her climaxing again and again. I looked down and realized that I'd started grinding myself against his boot as I'd held it between my legs to polish it. I closed my eyes and fantasized that I was on my knees before him and he had let me out of my cage so that I could grind my little cock against his hard shiny boots until I came. I bit my lip and winched at how turned on those thoughts made me and how my cock hurt against its cage at those thoughts. Perhaps I could get my Mistress to take my cage off when I cleaned his boots. And that I'd have to start cleaning them anew from all the cum I'd shoot onto them. And that I'd get so turned on cleaning them that I'd cum on them again and then I'd... And then none of this was helping me finish cleaning and polishing his boots that night. I was still turned on even as I'd finally finished tending to his boots and slipped out of my maid's uniform. Showered, powdered, in just my panties and babydoll, I tried thinking of anything else but those boots. That didn't work. Eventually though, sleep began to take me. Even as I began to drift into slumber the thought him and of those boots was still there. And that made me nervous....