As I lay down she looked over at Sheila and said, She does have a very nice ass. She smiled and added, Thank you for saying mine was better. She strok...d my ass several times. I flinched as she ran her hands across some of the heavier welts. Then she slammed down into my ass with the hairbrush. Aaiiee! I screamed. It hurt! I screamed again, Stop. Please stop! Oh, God, please stop! Then I started crying. She kept spanking, and I kept blubbering, Stop, please stop, as I shook and convulsed on her. "Well, why don't we come back to my place right now and we'll both make both of us very happy." I can't do that," she said, sitting back in her chair and taking her hands off my knees, where they'd been resting. "If I'm going to put on an act-- it needs to be for an audience."My head was swimming now. This was exciting, and scary, and deeply fucked up. It sounded like we could do whatever I wanted to do-- but only on her terms, which were, apparently, on stage at Radio City Music Hall. "What. “Only fair,” I purred. “I made her into a bimbo. You should get to enjoy her once before her husband picks her up.”“Yes, yes, with my special ass,” Natasha said. “Oooh, I just can't see it. Does it glow?”I rolled my eyes.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Frank Jackman, CEO of BimboTech Chemicals“Yes, yes, fuck my special ass,” Natasha moaned, wiggling her married rear at me. Juices trickled down her thighs, her pussy gleaming.I grabbed her bubbly ass. It was so plump and perfect. On the table, Janet. “I don’t know. Not really. I just know, having been there now, that it was something I had to do. Something I perhaps should have done a long time ago.”“You got that right,” said Imogen. “The way I understand it, you should have gone a very long time ago. Before you even went to America, maybe.”“Maybe.”“Did it work?” Vanessa asked.I shrugged. I do that a lot. Had you noticed? “I don’t know. Not yet. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”“Why today?” asked Imogen. “What made you go today?”I sighed..
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Now, before it becomes an issue.? I had trouble breathing, but gasped, ?What promise?? ?I want you to promise that you won’t masturbate. It really m
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