I had learned this from my mother.My sister threw her panties in a drawer all tangled and wrinkled. Even as a 10 to 13 year old boy I knew that was di...respecting a garment that was so pretty and sensuous. I was not overly obsessive about how the panties were arranged, no alphabetical by color name or any OCD sort of thing. But I often would put the prettiest panty down in the pile just to tease myself by not allowing me to wear it first.I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a cart bang the. " she said, smiling. "Well, do you?" "Yes, Mistress Doris," I croaked, surprised at how dry and raspy my voice sounded. It was then that I realized I had been panting when she spanked me. I was struck by the thought that when you are being tortured, you become so centered on one part of your body that the rest fades completely away . Even when the pain is not unbearable, and is just in fun, you become disassociated. "I think he needs a drink of something," Melissa said, as she stepped out of. It meant their arguments could get heated, sometimes physical.To prevent actual violence, they resolved to talk out their issues later when they had calmed down a little. Back then, they were talking about issues they had little control over. Back then, their lives were not at stake.Axel flicked his hand as if in dissmal. “Talk.” He folded his arms.“About what I said to you earlier, I’m sorry, we have both made mistakes—”“This is some apology.”“Let me finish.” Axel raised his hands then went. " And you've promised yourself you won't get the hots for anyone else. Is that it?" Exactly! Now..." she started, turning away, but she didn't even have time to to utter a gasp as his arm shot out, grasped her and pulled her to him, his lips closing on hers."Noooo," she mumbled, trying to break his grasp and the kiss but without avail. Despite her new resolve, the magnetism of the young man was simply too powerful. His hand came under her blouse. Since with her much smaller breasts she seldom.