I stayed at the window and squeezed into them and my favorite pair of my wife's old jeans that I can zip up only if tuck my maleness back as far as po...sible. Even so, the jeans are so delightfully tight that the front of them are perfectly flat, and the crotch so tight I can feel my pulse in my penis. And when I look at my buns in the mirror, they flow into the pear-shaped pants seat like they belong there. Which they do.I had more time today, so I thought I'd look through the extra dresser we. The rope against my sex rubbed madly, and the Ben Wa balls still rattled inside of me. The rough rope chafed against my nipples.People arrived and walked around me. They watched as I writhed in the ropes, getting hotter and hotter. I just couldn't get that one tiny touch needed to trip me over the edge.I thought back over the weekend and what torments I had been subjected to. The horrible itching powder. The horse hair, scratching away at my sex and making me cum harder than I had ever cum in. More

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