Ken did his best not to show it, but he was as concerned as I was."You need a day off," he said."Now?" I asked. "The fight's a week from fucking tonig...t!"It had been a frustrating session even before he shared the "results." Ken had designed an algorithm for measuring success. Or so he claimed. I wouldn't have known an algorithm from an African drum rhythm. What I did know was that my effectiveness with the light whip had plateaued just like my skill with the regular whip had. Now I had a. ”It was only a couple plates, and two cups, so it did not take long before the kitchen was back in order and she was looking around, making sure she did not miss anything.It did not surprise her to come out and see him waiting on the couch again. He had removed his pants, though his shirt was still on. She came around to where he was sitting and he patted his lap, his cock having partially softened, and she repeated her position from earlier that morning. This time with a lot more clarity as to. More

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