“On your knees!” she commanded. I just obeyed, it seemed the only option. I could smell her sex, only inches from my face, and I couldn’t believ... it when she started to play with herself. I leaned forward to lick her and enjoy her taste. Thwack! I reeled backwards from the slap she threw across my cheek. “Did I give you permission to touch me, slave? No! I don’t believe I did! Get upstairs and take your clothes off.” “Yes, Mistress,” I answered meekly, wondering where the hell this woman had. We bothknew they were bad, but neither of us could resist the need to slip oneout of the pack and hold it the way we'd seen our mother do thousands oftimes before.Did I think I looked pretty and all grown up waving that unlit cigarettein the air as my little penis poked out against my mother's panties?God help me. Make it stop!There I was in my bed, a couple years later, jacking off into a pair ofmy mother's panties while thinking about Mr. Elden, my father's friend.I remember that night well. More

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