I gently ran my hands over his ass. So smooth, so firm, the thought of spinning him around and licking his hole raced through my head. Not now though,...too soon. Now I held and caressed his tight balls with one hand and guided his hips with the other. I let him fuck my mouth and control the moment. “Maybe he just wants to cum and go, maybe he wants it to last.” I was just loving it all.His pace was slow, and by his breathing I could tell he was close. I wanted to see the beautiful, white cum. Strange. Tsk.So I, of course, had to stay in the coach.The calls and cries from outside the coach doors and walls were reaching to us by then. I'm not sure how we hadn't heard them earlier... perhaps we had and I'd been too occupied with the Baroness and her daughter to notice them.Cries of war are rather dull things. Not dull in the way that a politician's speech is dull, not dull in the way of a Madrilan wedding, but dull in the way that they're generally rather unintelligible and quite. The following day on a Saturday evening, I took him out into town to show him around my favourite haunts. It was nearly Christmas, so a lot of my old friends were back home visiting their folks and going out for a knees-up in town. Leandro tagged along and we went from pub to pub before going to my favourite on the high street, where my brother and his mates were holed up. Shortly after I had got a round in at the bar for everyone, Leandro excused himself after a few swigs of the traditional. From now on, and you better call me daddy bitch, you understand. Me,ok. Juan,ok what? Me,i understand daddy. Juan,good bitch. I walked over to the door and saw Juans dad was outside of his room. I tried to close the door. Juan,what are you doing, get out there. Me,your dads outside. Juan,i dont care bitch. He pushed me outside of his room naked, and spanked me really hard on my way out. I was left standing naked in the hallway, with my face covered in drying spit, mucus on my nose, and tears.