His pace started nice and slow, his left hand grabbing me by my long black hair, reining me in as if he were riding a mare. I was moaning through my g...g, begging Master for more. Then rough, fast, impatient were his strokes, as if the finish line were in sight. ‘Oh Sweet Jesus!’ This refrain ran through my mind, my pain rapidly forgotten with each of my loving Master’s thrusts. I screamed his name loudly, though muffled by the gag. He pummeled me furiously with that lovely cock of his as if. Yes?" For some reason, I had the feeling I'd been caught atsomething. I just didn't know what that something was yet."That sounds like you consider yourself to be one of the girls." I do. Or at least, I did before the -- you know -- birthday party."Aunt Joan pulled me close and held me for a few minutes before shespoke. "I remember, sweetie. That must have been pretty hard."The ache in my chest became a cold stone that sank into my stomach. "Itwas, especially at first. My father never lost his. More

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