" Every muscle in Cheryl's body tensed when he touched her. First, behind her ear, then slowly drawing a circle down her neck, to the soft skin of her...full breasts. Teasing the nipples, never giving them any more than a soft brush, he played with her breasts for a few minutes, grinning as she moaned in heated response. His hands moved softly down her abdomen, past her navel and outward to her hips, touching ever so lightly. Placing the fingers of each hand on her hips, he began rocking his. I love a challenge." I put my hands on her shoulders to hold her in place, and started stroking with a purpose, driving in and out of her, relishing the feel of her tight channel on my cock. Her legs came up to surround my waist, giving me even deeper access to her pussy, and I felt my balls banging against her ass. We were both sweaty, and sliding against each other, but the feeling seemed to ramp up the desire in each of us.Her eyes closed as her mouth dropped open to let her pant, and I. “My son, I have been having sex with your mother for almost 12 years now. It started shortly after your gram’s death. I was sitting in this house wasting away from depression. Your mother came over one day and was talking to me. She was telling me how much she loved me and how worried she was about me. I just remember looking at her and seeing the lust in her eyes and something inside of me snapped.“From that moment on I have been fucking your mother every week that she can come over. We are. Like ... they’re pets. Membersss of your family.”“If you owned a horse, Your Majesty,” I said, “wouldn’t you care for it? Treat your horse well. Make sure that it served you when you commanded.”“I would ussse my horse for itssss purpose.”“And what is a slave’s purpose?” I pressed.“To be owned. To be a symbol of my power. My wealth. They are a luxury, slaves. Proof that you are too important for the menial. Too grand for the mundane. They are proof of status, nothing more. And like all things,.