Title: Spanking Never So Deserving
Keywords: mF, inc, mdom, mom, son, spank, mat, cheat, nc, nosex
Author: Caesar
Summary: A mother and her adult son wrestle and she ends up getting a spanking - he learns that his mother wants more.


 








The Sultan was peeved with his harem,
And cooked up a scheme for to scare'em.
        He caught a big mouse
        Which he loosed in the house.
(Such confusion is called harem-scarem).



Spanking Never So Deserving

by Caesar, copyright 2002

$Revision: 1.13 $ $Date: 2008-05-22 22:19:33 $

"I suppose you had all sorts of fun together?"  One of her eyebrows
was raised and she wore a half smile, the sexual implications obvious.

"Mom!"  Yes I was a little shocked.  My mother never spoke about my
personal life with my long-time live-in girlfriend, never hinting at
our sexual intimacies together.  It was a little disconcerting.

As I do frequently in any given month, mom had called me to come over
to help with some 'man stuff' - as she liked to call it.  This time it
was to move the Christmas boxes back down to the storage in the
basement of her building.  After the chore was complete, she asked me
to stay and 'talk' - which was not normal between us.  My initial
guess was that she was feeling lonely.

"Well did Carol at least have fun?"  That naughty look had not
disappeared yet and I was starting to feel nervous beneath its gaze.

Mother had offered to brew up some tea but after sitting next to me on
the couch, the tea seemed to have been forgotten.  The questions, at
first, were about my car, her work and my work.  The awkward tension
still thick between us.  Then mother asked about my girlfriend, Carol,
and my vacation two weeks before Christmas - her eyes taking on a
twinkle.

"Mom... that is none of your business!"  My embarrassment was turning
into a smoldering anger and I was wishing I could escape from this
conversation, from this couch and even from my parent's apartment.

A short silence followed while mothers smirk slowly melted - I was not
going to play any sort of verbal game with her.  It was wrong, for
one, and just plain weird for another.

Her small hand came out and gently gasped my arm, just above the elbow
- and in a stupid reaction I pulled away.  Her hand jerked forward
again till it touched my rib cage above my sweater.  In retrospect she
was simply apologizing for the suggestive comments, so
uncharacteristic of her, that I was totally innocent.

But of course, I am very ticklish and jerked away from her with a bark
of uncontrollable laughter.

A wide mischievous grin spread upon her lips and she dove toward me
with both hands shaped like claws.  "Mom!"  My protest fell on deaf
ears as she began to earnestly tickle my upper torso and beneath my
arm pits.  It lasted less than a minute, but if your ticklish, then
you know that that can be a very long minute!

This tickle attack was just like I was seven year old again and mother
attacking me with her evil intent.  It was all in malicious fun, of
course, but when your enduring such an attack, you don't consider the
lighthearted reasoning behind the aggressive act.

I finally grasped both her small wrists in my own and caught my
breath.  She was grinning playfully, that mischievous twinkle not yet
extinguished from her eyes.  I knew if I let her hands go, I would be
attacked yet again.

I'll blame it on the earlier anger and then the defencive frustration
of being tickled that caused my sudden movement when she was able to
move her hands inside my arms and tickle the inside of my elbows.
Also a ticklish spot!  To stop another round of tickling, I yanked her
forward rather roughly.

Mother was a small woman, much shorter than I and much lighter.  So
when I inadvertently yanked her, she practically flew from her seat
and fell onto my lap.  "Oh... your in trouble now honey...!"  I could
hear the threat in her tone - her evil ticklish intentions had not yet
extinguished.

I still had one of mother's wrists in hand and held her firmly in
place - determined not to be tickled any further.  I am no longer a
seven year old boy for gods sake!

There before me was her denim covered bottom, her sweater having being
thrown up to her waist in the initial landing upon my lap.  With
barely a thought I brought up my free hand and watched it descend
almost as if it was in slow motion so that it landed loudly upon
mothers round soft bottom.

Suddenly all is quiet in the room.  Mother is no longer struggling and
I continue to stare dumbly at the bottom before me as my hand again
hit it with a resounding smack.  Gone was the threat of being tickled
by an irritating parent leaving my anger smoldering.

I'm not a huge guy but I am much larger than my mother and I am quite
strong, my hands being rough and large from years of camping and
fishing let alone from working in the mills.  Her ass though, each
cheek was wider than the breadth of my hand, so that with each strike
resounded with a loud violent splat upon her body.  I struck either
one or the other cheek at a time.

How many I gave her I have no idea.

Yet I became conscious that after the first several minutes she was
jerking violently with each strike of her person and that my hand was
starting to numb.

When I finally stopped, staring dumbly at my mothers abused bottom -
realizing, thankfully, that the denim hid any abusive evidence.  I
could hear both mothers and my own heavy breathing.

Minutes passed and nothing moved and no sound was made in her well
kept living room.  The enormity of what I had just done hit me - and I
tried to put meaning into it; that this was the moment that mother
will finally understand that I'm not her little boy any more, but a
man.  My striking of her ass was not within the same boundaries of her
playful tickles - I had lost my patience and my anger had exploded
into action.  Now, though, I was left with a confused mess of emotions
and a rapidly burning palm.

Mother slowly, as if each movement was an effort, rolled off my lap so
that she knelt upon the floor.  Her face was turned away from me and I
could feel the awkwardness of the moment.

What I had just done must have hurt her terribly - I had put my anger,
humiliation and frustration into each strike.  She had been an
innocent to receive such a punishment - the first time I had ever
struck a woman.

Without a word I stood in a smooth motion and then walked from my
mothers apartment.  I felt her eyes following me until the door shut,
cutting off her gaze.

 -*-

Ultimately it had been months later that I again stepped into my
mothers home alone.  Oh sure there had been the normal functions that
I had always attended - the most reoccurring was the Sunday supper,
each and every week.  My girlfriend Carol always attended with me
those days.  Nothing was said between mother and I, nor did I tell
anyone else, even my girlfriend.  It was just so strange, such a
surreal memory that it it could not have been an actual event.

The days and then the weeks following had been awkward - mother not
even able to look at me.  Carol asked me about it and I told her I had
no idea what had gotten into my mother.  After mother overcame
whatever emotions she endured, there still existed an awkwardness
whenever she spoke to me, almost a fear... of something.

Mom then asked me to come over early the next Saturday morning, there
was a chore for me that only I could help with.

For the first time since the event that caused me to place her over my
knee for a harsh and lengthy spanking, I dared go over without Carol.
Whom I may add, was still sleeping when I left for mothers'.

Something was wrong, I saw it in moms eyes after I shut the door
behind me, discarding my boots and winter jacket.  She stood at the
end of her short hallway with her hands on her hips, wearing her pearl
coloured two-piece silk pyjama tops and bottoms.

"Whats up mom?"  A nervousness crept into my heart.

"Don't you 'mom' me!  You forgot to call...", what followed was a five
minute dressing down, with the tone of mothers voice getting louder
and shriller.

The frustrating thing for me was, what she was blaming me for was
something she told me weeks before to not bother with.  When I tried
to interrupt and explain my side of things she had more ammunition,
this time for rudely interrupting her!  I barely said two words in
those first minutes of my visit!

At one point minutes into the dressing down, I snapped and turned to
retrieve my boots and jacket - I was getting out of there.  Mother was
going nuts or something!  Maybe Carol was right and it was a hormonal
thing, something about the 'change of life'.  Whatever the fuck that
was.

Like a little pixie, she rushed frantically forward and snatched my
jacket while I was putting on my boots and quickly retreated further
into her apartment.  Since it was negative thirty outside, not
counting the wind chill, there was no way I could leave without my
parka.

"Mom!  Mom...?"  Now this was a mature way for her to act!

With my boots on, and tied, I strode purposefully into her living room
to see her standing there, my jacket beneath her bare feet on her
carpeted floor.  That is a very expensive jacket!  As soon as I saw
this she started in, continuing my dressing down where she had left
off before she had stolen my jacket.

I could not leave with her standing on my jacket, I could not take
much more of this mindless yelling either.

It was not so much a snap as it was a flash of a recent past event -
of her laying over my lap as I punished her for treating me so
commonly.  Nothing had been said that time and the punishment,
regardless of how guilty it made me feel, had worked - it had stopped
mother treating me like a pre-teen.

She did not fight as I yanked her by her elbow.  I dropped down to the
couch, mother across my lap.  I moved my hand so that it held one of
her hands behind her back as if to restrain her - but mother had
stopped talking and lay over my knees without any resistance, without
a sound.

Not so unlike the last time I watched, as if in slow motion, as my
hand rose up and then dropped back down upon the bottom there before
me.  It was different this time, no thick denim or undergarments -
only the thin silky pyjama bottom to cover her fleshy ass.  The flesh
beneath her covering danced wildly with each strike.  I rained half a
dozen spankings upon her ass, distantly analyzing the difference in
sound and feel of each strike from the last spanking I had given her
while mother jerked before me with each hit.

Mother made no resistance up to that point, other than jerk her whole
body as my hand struck, when I thought it would be more effective if a
spanking would happen upon bare skin.  It was a malicious thought
rather than an inquisitive or sexual one.  And I could not tell you
whence it originated.  Only that my smoldering anger was still hot
with passion and I was not yet done punishing mother for acting so
immature.

Yet when my hand grasped the elastic waist band of her pyjama bottoms,
mother started to kick and fight me, trying to roll away.  She was
yelling "No", over and over.  Obviously she understood what I was
about to do, want I intended and she did not like it very much
evidently.  Hell - she should have thought of that before screaming at
me for ten fucking minutes and then standing on my jacket like a
child!

This reaction from her only added to my fury and my restraining hand
held her arm bent behind her back firmly holding her waist directly
upon my lap even as her bottoms were pulled down to a point mid way to
the back of her knees.

What I saw froze me for nearly a full minute - mother also calming
down to her earlier quiet stillness, letting me get my visual fill.

I've seen many bare female asses since I was a teenage, and could
properly evaluate each one individually, but none like the one before
me.  For one, it was my mothers - and that adds a certain alien
quantity when weighed against any other woman.  Then it was also the
oldest ass I have ever seen, and if truth be told it could easily
compete against some of the sluts I've bedded before finding Carol.
Mother was a tiny woman, small of bone and frame - yet she had a
flaring waist with a full bottom that thrust out provocatively.  It
was not overly pronounced - but god help me, I shall never be able to
look at her from the back again without seeing her bare ass in my
mind.

The white skin was unblemished and very smooth so that it nearly shone
in the bright morning light.  It already had a hint of redness where I
had struck her earlier - looking so out of place that it suddenly felt
criminal what I had done to it.

I placed my open palm gently upon the far cheek and still mother did
not move - but she let out a long loud sigh as I gave her a single
squeeze.

What the hell has gotten into her - with me?

I no longer watched my hand but the white flesh as I began to spank
its tender skin.  The whole of each cheek flattened violently and a
wave of flesh rapidly flowed out from my hand.  When I withdrew it,
for another strike, the skin was brighter in colour, almost glowing
with proof of my anger.

I spanked mothers ass for what felt like forever - her normally white
skin a bright red hot mess before me.  Gone was my anger and was
replaced by something else, something almost animal in its intensity.

She had jerked violently at each strike and had gasped out at the
pain, yet the only other response was a harsh deep breathing.  When I
stopped striking her, that irregular breathing turned to sobs and
mother begin to cry, her whole body convulsing with anguish.

Gone was my anger, gone was my frustration, gone even was that alien
feeling that drove me to strike mother's bare ass.  I had hurt the
most important family member in my life and I felt like a lowly piece
of shit.

I watched as mother slowly rolled onto the floor and awkwardly stood
before yanking up her pyjama bottom with one hand, the front over her
crotch as she ran out of the room, bare red ass dancing wildly.  I
heard the door to her bedroom slam shut and then the muffled sobs
behind it.

I sat for a long while, remembering the sight of her ass as I struck
it, as she hobbled out of the room comically, tragically.

As silent as I could I retrieved my coat from the floor and made my
way out of my mothers apartment.  Only when I got into the frigid cold
did I feel something on one of my legs.  There on one denim thigh was
a round damp spot approximately where mothers waist had been.

 -*-

The memory of that wet spot, which I instinctively knew was not urine,
allowed me to overcome my embarrassment much faster than the previous
time I had overstepped my boundaries as a child.

If I had thought about it, I would have realized why mother did not
fight when finally placed upon my lap.  That it was from some strange
desire or kink to be spanked!  Only after that last encounter, driving
home on the dangerous icy roads did I realize that the whole thing had
not been an accident.  That mother had not worn her silk pyjamas by
chance and that the spanking had nothing to do with hormones when her
mood changed as quickly as the wind.  No, she knew I would be alone
and had wanted to be placed over my knee yet again, wanted even to be
struck like a naughty child.

Believe it or not, I had never thought of my mother as a woman.  The
realization that she had some deep seated need to be spanked,
especially by her own child, was beyond me in understanding but gave
me the knowledge and the power that she could not force me to do it
again unless I wished too.

Did I wish too was the question that dominated my thoughts?

The next visit was three days later, after work and after supper.
Though still early in the evening, it was black and cold out, and I
found mother seated in the living room wearing only a cotton nightie
that ended about mid-thigh.  Normally, she would not leave her room
wearing such a garment, but would have put on her white bathrobe.  The
sight of her wearing that garment seemed to add fuel to my hypothesis
about mothers desire for spankings.

Since it was so early in our visit, I felt reassured in knowing what
her game was before she made her play.

Before I could even start to apologize as the purpose of this visit,
she coldly says, "I am going to tell Carol."

A trigger went off in my head but before I acted I consciously looked
inward and realized that I wanted to do this, wanted to put her over
my knee.  Mother was a woman, she had sexual needs - and if being
spanked by the only man she could trust turned her crank, so be it!

Hell, if truth be told, I was enjoying it more than a little myself.

Harshly I barked, "Get up mom!"

The cold look in her eye disappeared instantly and she soberly and
slowly stood up.  I quickly sit down, make myself comfortable and then
pat my lap.  "Assume the position mom."

There it was, now we both knew our roles.

Mother barely hesitated before she slowly lay down over my lap.  I
easily, and without any resistance from my mother, flip her nightie up
to her waist leaving her bare from the waist down.  There it was, the
redness gone leaving the pale smooth skin that was flawless in its
perfection.

A realization came to me at that second in time, that if you
classified any given woman by a single body part; a breast, legs, or
ass... mother was most definitely the latter.  It must be one of her
prime erogenous zones I guessed - my evidence based on her pleasure
and drive for a spanking.

Lovingly I gave each of her bottom cheeks a firm squeeze, enjoying the
soft smooth warm flesh immensely.  Mother mewed near-silently at the
twin touches but otherwise sat still awaiting her punishment.

I did not hold anything back as I struck her again and again.  Why
should I - mother wanted me to spank her, she needed me spank her.
And hell, I enjoyed it as well!

For one thing, it made me feel like a man like no other time in my
life.  I had simply ordered mother over my lap and she did it - now I
was giving a taboo-spanking and we both enjoyed it.  I could do this
any time and knew it, it was my new found power over my mother, while
to her I imagined it was like her kryptonite, her bane.

I finally stopped when my hand was hot and numb, burning.  Though,
comparing it to that red flaming ass beneath me - I would say I got
the light end of the deal.  Mother though had reacted in kind; jerking
to each strike, grasping or groaning as I hit her, breathing hard and
fast.

Something was different this time; which became apparent soon after I
had stopped her spanking.  She did not roll off my lap but sat
breathing heavily as if waiting.  For what?  More spankings?  I
doubted either her or I could take much more.

My hand lay gently upon the back of one thigh, high up near where her
ass started when I saw her back arch downward which pushed her bottom
up.  This caused the shadowed crack of her ass to widen and the dark
curly mass between her soft upper thighs to come into sight.

Then I smelt it!

I've been with enough women to understand the scent, though each woman
was slightly different.  Mother was excited, so excited that her sex
was putting out her scent so that it filled the small living room.

Almost as if in a dream, I brought up the hand from her thigh and
sucked on, first, one finger and then the other.  I moved my hand back
down and the fingers slipped into the shadowed mass of curly hair
between my own mothers legs.  I found it with ease, the heat and
wetness sucking me anxiously.

The first two saliva covered fingers slid effortlessly into her body
with ease, the third slipped down the slippery crack to tease the hard
button at the tip of the crevice, the thumb pressing into the damp
wrinkled hard sphincter muscle.

Mothers reaction was a thing of beauty, a sexual being who had finally
been allowed out of its cage.  With the plunging of my digits, it was
like another barrier had been torn down between us.  My parent did not
try to hide her pleasure from me, that she needed this... pleasure
with me.  Mother screamed out and arched her back upward so that her
upper torso lifted off my lap, my hand was caught between her thighs
and ass cheeks as she orgasmed violently and very visually.  She was
jerking and thrashing upon my lap and I used my other hand to hold her
about the waist, not wanting her to drop to the floor at my feet or
fall off her perch.

I had done barely anything to set this reaction off, a plunge of my
fingers was all.  So amazing a sight, so thankful I was to witness it
that I had not removed my hand and fingers with her climax.  Instead,
I waited until she had calmed, again laying upon my lap as if
unconscious before I began to move within her.

The two fingers emulated a small cock, moving expertly and evenly in
and out of that hot wet fleshy hole.  The thumb though, had eased to
the first knuckle in her post-orgasm phase, when even her rectum had
loosened and relaxed.  The third finger was the magic one - it diddled
the clitoris intermittently, teasing it.

Mother reacted immediately, her breathing quickly returning to a harsh
race while her body moved wildly upon my lap.  She was wantonly
pushing her ass back to meet my thrusting fingers, wanting me to do
this as much as I wanted too.  I sat as if amazed, watching this play
accelerate to yet another amazing climax.  My hand frigged her in long
even strokes until she came with another scream echoing off the walls
and her body convulsing upon me.

Minutes later I carried my mother into her room, like a child I placed
her in the middle of her large decorative bed, upon her back, and
kissed her sweaty brow.

I sat next to her and starred alternately at her weary but happy face
to staring at her exposed hairy pussy, the nightie still up about her
waist.  That dark brown mass between her legs was a mess of juices but
I was drawn to it like a thirsty man to water.  Hell, my mouth was
even watering!

This could end here.  I could, and probably should, leave her to sleep
peacefully knowing that her child will return and give her what she
needed.  Mother was a woman, her ass had given me that perspective,
and needed to feel as one.  If that meant spanking and then fingering
her - I would willingly, anxiously, do it.  It was not just the
spanking, though, it was also her reaction to my dominant requests -
acting so unlike the mother I had grown up with that it fascinated me
on various levels.  Did she need to submit herself to another, to even
her son?  Did that add to her pleasure?

I made a decision at that moment and leaned down my lips kissing my
mothers for the first time since before puberty.  "Mom?  Mom, can you
hear me?"

She was as if dead to the world, only the small smile and the deep
breathing revealing her existence in this plane of existence.  Yet she
finally answered, "Yes honey."  She sounded as if drunken, her eyes
not even opening.

"I am going to leave now mom."  Mother's head moved side to side ever
so slightly and her brow furled noticeably.  "I will be back Saturday
morning mother."  Her smile returned.

She whispered, "Stay with me tonight honey!"

"I can't mom."

"Be with me baby!" She whined.

God help me but I wanted too.  If I felt dominant and manly spanking
my mother, imagine what I would feel slamming my hard dick in and out
of her willing body?

"I want you to do two things for me for Saturday morning?  Mom, can
you still hear me?"  I could not tell if she had dropped off to sleep
or not - she appeared exhausted.

She hadn't, instead nodding her head in agreement, letting me know she
was still with me.  The small smile still on her lips.

"I want you to dress up sexy for me mom.  Can you do that?"

A small child-like giggle escaped her lips and she finally answered,
"I'll do whatever my baby wants!"

My dick, already hard and painfully in its denim confines, lurched yet
again at her words.  "Only one more thing mom?"

She nodded, awaiting my final request.

But it was not coming just yet, "Did you enjoy what we did tonight?"

She giggled yet again and her body wiggled a little upon the bed,
particularly her hips.  "Oh yes!"

"I did too mom.  From now on I'll do that any time I want too, OK?"

Her eyes opened slightly but the smile did not disappear as she said
soberly, "Thats what I want too honey."

"You know I'm going to do a lot more as well don't you mom?"

I saw before she answered, in her eyes, that that was exactly what she
wanted as well.  "Yes I do baby."

"And thats OK with you?"

I had to hear it I had to know with no uncertainty that what was going
on between us was fully consensual.

She looked very serious and I thought she was was going to say
something more than her answer of, "Yes it is."

I felt something upon my crotch and looked down to see her little hand
measuring and fondling me through my clothing.  When I looked back up
into her face, I saw that she was biting her bottom lip while her eyes
pleaded with me silently.

God help me.

"One more thing for next Saturday mom."  I did not wait for an answer.
Instead I slipped one hand between her legs, which immediately spread
to give me room, grasping her hot hairy fleshy sex roughly "I want you
completely bare for next week mom!"

Her eyes widened in amazement and then she returned to looking like
some virginal teenage girl, giggling and wiggling her body about,
pushing her sex into my hand.

I pulled my hand from her, leaned over to kiss her lips yet again.
They opened immediately and I tasted mothers lips and tongue for the
first time.

When I broke away from the minute long kiss, I stayed directly above
her so that our noses were nearly touching, our eyes locked together.
She looked so submissive there beneath me that it tore my heart and
strengthened my cock.  I did not want to leave - but what was going on
here between us was not reality, should not ever be allowed to mix
with reality.  That meant I had to go home to my girlfriend, to
continue with the Sunday supper at moms while pretending all was
normal and to ensure our secret stayed private forever.

"After your spanking next week I am going to spend a lot of time
between your legs mom and prefer it to be bare."

Mother's eyes widened quickly and her face turned a deep red but after
a short pause she started to nod frantically up and down in agreement.
There was no doubt in my mind that she would be have no hair between
her legs and the she would be wearing what she considered 'sexy' when
I returned for her next spanking in only a few days time.

I stood up and moved toward the doorway to her room - it was time to
leave.

A gasp caused me to pause in the doorway, "Tell me what... tell me
what you are going to do to me baby?"

I turned back to see my slut of a mother wiggling about on her own
bed, her sex completely exposed, the scent of her pleasure
overpowering the perfumes of her bedroom with ease.

"Do you really want to know mom?"  I was enjoying our game, and like
her, did not want it to end.

Loudly, almost a bark, "Yes!"

"Then spread your legs and finger yourself and I'll tell you."  My
request was made by a perverse and selfish desire to see her do such a
thing - to watch my own mother masturbate willingly before me seemed
kinkier than even spanking her bare ass.

Mother immediately complied, two fingers slipping into her slippery
hot sex.  Her hips moving up and down while the finger moved in and
out.  The other hand slipped beneath the bottom edge of her nightie,
moved upward so that she must be tweaking one of her nipples upon her
chest.  "Tell me... please?"

"There is no plan mom - but I will tell you want I want to do."

"Yes... yes!"  Her hips and fingers were moving faster, and I could
hear the sloppy sounds from her sex echoing off the walls of the room.

God mother looked, sound and smelt delicious!

"I want to tan your ass until its bright red - punishing you like the
bad little girl you are.  Then I will have you lay upon your dining
room table, legs high in the air, as I sit in the chair and eat you
until your delirious with lust.  I will then stand and hold each of
your ankles as I fuck you hard and fast.  Your so god damned sexy, I
doubt I will last long, and will fill you up with my come."

Speaking of orgasms, mom was obviously building up to her third - so I
thought to give her more fuel and continue - growing confident with my
verbal images.  "You will first clean my cock with your mouth before
we go to the bathroom and share a long hot tub together mother.  You
will dress in something sexy... stockings and heels... before I put
the collar I bring for you around your neck."  Now I was going a
little nuts - but you have to understand, my cock was out of my pants
and I had my hand wrapped around it, pumping in time to mothers self
pleasure.  "You will then cook me a nice lunch but before we eat it I
will drag you into the bedroom and have you kneel on the edge of the
bed.  I will lick your cunt as well as your ass hole before I stand
behind you and shove my dick into your body.  While I fuck you like
the slut you are, I will shove two of my fingers in your spit greased
butt until you collapse in yet another orgasm.  And while your
exhausted I will remove my dick from your body and push it into your
ass...!"

At that point, with mother watching my hand stroke my cock, I orgasm
hugely.  My ejaculate shooting out and spurting onto mothers clean
beige carpet.  Distantly I heard my own parents cries of passion in
the room, sounding not so unlike her earlier sounds of pleasure.

My eyes had closed while I endured these moments and when I opened
them I saw that mother had moved to a kneeling place before me.  As I
watched, all in slow motion, she open mouth forward to take me.
Mother sucked and cleaned me expertly, lovingly and though I longed
for more, I gently pulled from her lips.

She boldly looks up at me at that moment and says, "I will do anything
you want my love.  Anything!"

I rubbed the wet head of my penis over her face, the pleasure of the
act obvious, before tucking myself back into my pants.  A trail of
saliva and sperm upon her sweaty face - but her big dark eyes were
wide and watching all.  Like a child, or a virginal teenager I once
again thought.

This time I did not hesitate as I turned to leave.  In only a few more
days I'll be back and I fully intended to do exactly what I described.

--
