You’re not a dead guy. Don’t act like it. Please?”It was her “please” that stirred me. I did not expect it to. The air in the bus was cold, ...nd there must have been six layers of clothes between her skin and mine. I felt numb to the world.And yet: my cock stirred. Not much. My genitals were shrunken and shriveled, a reaction to the temperature and my own tangled thoughts. But that gentle, earnest “please” reached back to someplace inside me I’d considered unreachable. The head of my cock began. “Thank you, sir, Mistress,” Jess said to each of them. She turned to Emma.“Mistress Emma, perhaps you’d like some entertainment during dinner?” Jess suggested.“Huh? Uh, maybe some music?” Emma said uncertainly. Jess smile faded just a bit.“Absolutely. Slave Aaron, can you turn on the radio?” Jess said to me. I went and did so, putting on the local light rock station. Something by Bryan Adams started softly in the background.“Mistress, I was actually thinking more along the lines of Slave Aaron. More

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