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The river appeared to be about half a mile wide but in the middle of the city did not seem very impressive. What was more interesting was that we were just outside of Busch Stadium, the home of the Cardinals, and if we looked north we could see the Gateway Arch.When we got there and I told him this was it; he had the same reaction that I had had when I did my first crossing."That's it?" That's it."I brought the rig up to speed and headed onto Interstate 70; next stop Terre Haute, Indiana. We'd be having breakfast in about three hours.The atmosphere in the truck was different somehow. The sexual tension between us was gone. We had satisfied our immediate needs and desires, now, more than ever before, we could relax and enjoy each other's company.We'd traveled about an hour, commenting on the lack of scenery and the traffic, when I could tell that there was something on Bill's mind. I sat there, dreading what he was thinking, making up scenarios in my head."Gail, about last. The cashier of the shop mustered me and smiled a bit, as he looked me in the eye. I think he must have seen panic and confusion. I got to my bike and drove home. At home I hid the clamps on top of my armoire. In the evening I fantasized about the day and thought about what had happened.My thoughts cirkled around the guy rubbing my nipples and how good that felt. I was totally confused and started to look after it on google, but could not really find something new about it. I just found sites which I allready knew and which I allready had visited much often. I was not sure what that all was meaning. The next days I started to wear the clamps at home, when my parents were not present. I started to like it really much how they "bit" my nipples and remarked how the pain increased my horniness. Every time I jerked I wore the clamps and watched more and more bdsm porn. It was a rush. The pain and the pleasure combined with porn in which dominant men fucked, tied and abused submissive.
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