Hispants - what was left of them - were so big on him now that they slippeddown some, and he had to grab them, hold them with one hand, so theywouldn'... fall off. Even his face got thinner. It was like something wassucking the muscle out of him.Then he saw me. "Jeff," he yelled. "Stay back. I don't know whathappened, but I..." He shook his head. "Something's going on in- insideme." His voice cracked, like he was a kid.I wanted to go to him - to help him; honest I did, but I was. ’ ‘What else do I own, Cara?’ My breath is gone, my head swims. ‘You own my ass John, You own my ass.’ The words are accompanied by a tremendous slap onto my left ass cheek and I loose a mingled shout and moan. ‘Every time, tell me’ John demands, and another blow falls. ‘My ass is yours’ I gasp over and over as his stinging slaps fall. His breathing is harsh with exertion and passion when he wrenches my hips back and I feel the icy shock of lube exploring my crack. Merciful saints, two. We areallowed to pray here, and sometimes look after you a little. But, whenyou feel like you 'know' something, or that you have to 'do something',it will be me. If you do as you must, and redeem yourself, I will seeyou up here again, and this time it will be forever."She hugged her Mom, and even gave me one, and kissed me on the cheek,and then turned around and went back into town. I was crying as Ilooked at Mom and said, "Please take me back. I can't stand to look atthis if I can't be. She looked up to me with a sad expression.“You don’t want me to?” she asked, clearly hurt. I pushed myself back up onto my elbows to look at her.“No, I mean, yes! Of course I do! But not like this. Not right after you’ve been hurt and may not be thinking clearly. It would be wrong,” I said, trying to explain. Of COURSE, I wanted a blow job from her, but not because she was feeling dejected by a son-of-a-bitch.She pushed away and sat down on her heels.“It’s nothing like that. I want to. You’ve.