As I bent over her, she looked up and we kissed. Beatrice then started tonguing my mouth, forcing her tongue inside. I liked it.We stood there for a w...ile lip locked as I fumbled one of my hands up under her blouse. Beatrice didn’t move and kept sticking her tongue deep into my mouth. I could cup a breast some, but her bra was so massive I couldn’t get my hand into it. I slid my hand down into her waistband and it slid under her skirt and into her panties as we both breathed hard and continued. But they didn’t satisfy me. I needed more. Servitude and humiliation were my way to more massive climaxes – with permission, of course.My mind clicked at that thought. Were the orgasms better with permission or better without it? Thinking back, I came hardest when being naughty. The most intense orgasms came when I didn’t have permission. The one outside the mall was the hardest I’d ever cum – by far. It was so humiliating not to be able to control myself. That must be it. Or was it knowing. I would have fucked anything in sight. My cousin, we had been best friends for all of our 50 some years, invited me to her cottage “you can have it all for yourself for a couple of weeks” she told me on the phone. Located on a small island in Canada, by a fast running river, this is exactly what I needed. I got there on a Friday night and she was there with her family, friends and our mutual families. Fireside chats, great dinner with a little too much to drink but nobody was driving anywhere. He began to nuzzle her neck and flick his tongue along her skin. She was glad that they had been drinking cause apparently the freedom that was overcoming them was also helping them to do what apparently had been on each other’s mind for days. She turned around and with one hand held the back of his head while teasing his lips with her tongue and with her other hand raced it down to his pants and rubbed on that hard bulge that was starting to grow underneath the restraint of his pants. He.