She thought of how she'd been draped over that table, her long legs spread widely apart and held down firmly while her ankles were restrained in the s...me way. She'd been pinned down to the top of the table like a biological specimen, her high-riding asscheeks completely exposed to Rick's brutal attack. And yet how exciting it had been. She couldn't deny the heat that had burned in her pussy with each killing blow of the belt against her jiggling buttocks. Even now she could feel her pussy. That funny feeling you get is the start of it.”“Can you show me?”OH! GOD! I THOUGHT YOU’D NEVER ASK! said the inner me.“Okay, sit on the edge of the table for me.” He did as he was told so that his balls sat on the table and his cock pointed straight up. I stood in front of him, still with my jeans and pants around my thighs. Do I stand or kneel? I decided to kneel for a grandstand view so his cock was only inches from my face. I curled my fingers around it, feeling it throb and twitch as his. " I must have looked funny, because she added "Don't worry, they are not going to grill you. Much!"I came in and was gently shooed into the kitchen. Excuse me – the breakfast nook, which was as big as our dining room. Pamela's parents were actually pretty nice: they were a little older than mine, and clearly concerned about their daughter, but not really pushy."So, Martin, Pamela says you will be a junior next year. What are your plans for college? Or have you thought that far yet?" No, Mr.. That's the only way I see out of this dilemma. I protect my identity religiously as an erotic author because included among the type of cocks and cunts who read my stories for excitement to improve their sex lives are also lots of unbalanced degenerates that would unmask me and expose me to my neighbors, friends, and business associates who would be repulsed if they knew about my far out voyeuristic sexual appetites that they would consider perverted and degenerate. I can't risk that happening..