I slid the tip of the riding crop slowly along his inner leg, teasing his calf, his knee, his thigh. I was really enjoying myself. I gave his inner th...gh a couple of playful slaps with the crop, watching his body convulse each time, as if the crop were electrically charged. Slowly, slowly the crop slid up towards his crotch. I pressed it against his balls, dangling there, unprotected. I could see him trying, perhaps instinctively, to close his legs, but my knots were firm. He wasn’t going. She woke up to her alarm, lying in muddled confusion for a good ten seconds before she snapped into proper consciousness and grabbed at her watch to turn the bloody thing off. She was in her pyjamas, in bed, and it was time to get ready for work. She stared at herself in astonishment, then tried to recall the previous night. Nothing. She didn’t feel as though she had managed to get any wine into her at all, so she could hardly blame being drunk. Just how tired had she been? But she felt. As we entered the living room, my son was sitting on the far end of the sofa watching TV. We set our tea down on the coffee table and curled up together on the other end of the sofa. As we started watching, "The X-Files movie: I want to believe," my son didn't say a word of what happened, so I didn't bring up the subject and open that can of worms. After watching that movie, and "Star Trek: First Contact," it was almost 2:30 in the afternoon. Well me and my sister had gone out to the kitchen. Though I somehowdoubted that seeing as she had just given me the bestblowjob of my thirty plus years. She pulled away from my dick and looked up at mesmiling, pleased with what she had accomplished. Sheleaned over to me and kissed me. Although I had nevertasted my own cum before, coming from her it tasted assweet as honey. Those sixteen-year-old lips couldprobably make shit taste good, I thought to myself. The Paradise Motel was not the type of place where thedesk clerk asked questions. Well,.