Facing each other, both of us nude. My nerves had me shaking like we were in a refrigerator. And there he sat like a sexy god, hands relaxed on his upper thighs, posture upright and legs open. I couldn't tell if he was trying to intimidate me, or if he was just that damn cocky. Probably both. Either was a wasted effort with the mortification of what I was about to do suffocating me. No talking allowed until we began, so I waited in the nerve-wracking silence for the bell that would begin the first test. Masturbation climax race. Really? Could it get any more embarrassing? And pointless? No touching each other would be permitted and the first to orgasm would win the right to Dom in the mysterious test following immediately after. And we would gain individual points. And the challenge in the next round would be determined by the winner of this test. Like, what, the Dom-matrix? Ridiculous. God only knew what we were being judged on, but I sure hoped it wasn't grace and style.
