Clothes Maketh The Man — Part 49.

Confronted with the increasing awareness that what little was left of my masculine self was shrinking rapidly I resolved to confront a question that had been lingering in my mind. In the weeks I’d been under Devina’s exquisite but torturous tutelage I had not experienced a release of my own passions so much as once.

I had indeed been the object of others pleasure, generally on the receiving end of their desires, and far from objecting to that I found it remarkable how enjoyable I found it. And yet there was that undeniable need to feel my own release. I craved the powerful sense of completion that had been absent from so many of the encounters in which I’d been involved.

When, that warm morning, I saw it was Devina calling me I felt a rush of excitement. Would today be the day in which she would finally relent and respond to my obvious demonstrations of affection, perhaps that release could be arriving sooner than I’d hoped.

“Hello,” I answered trying not to sound overly eager.

“Oh, yes, Andrea. I trust you’re doing well?”

“Yes, Devina. I am,” I said trying to stifle my excitement at receiving her call.

“Good, good,” she responded absently. “I see you seem to be doing satisfactorily. Claude certainly enjoyed you. He was most complimentary about Veronica and…