When my lips met Maddie’s for the first time – weird to think about it, one tiny part of my brain mused, we’ve been so close, I’ve had my lips...on her nipples, I’ve had her bare pussy flush against my bare cock, I’ve blown my load on her face, but our lips have never met – it was like an explosion went off in my brain. I gasped as the most intense desire I’d ever felt in my life completely overtook me. We began pulling at each other’s clothes. Her shirt hit the floor, and mine immediately. Oh... and I found out that my mother is actually Mistress Mandy and my father is her submissive slave “winter.” I think his name is a play on our last name, Summerfield. Submissives – and Masters – run in our family. Maybe I should say that they gallop since the traits show up in every generation.As near as I can tell, almost every descendant of Great Grandpa Walter Wilcox is either a Master or a Submissive. Except, of course, for Weird Uncle Walter, my grandmother’s brother who owns the north. There was no visible means of support and they stood high and proud on her chest nevertheless. I couldn't see below because of a tiny loincloth covering her most private place.No one else was about. Her horse was tied to a tree on the other side of the stream. It was loaded down with her possessions. Her clothing was made of leather and lying on the big boulder at the edge of the water. It made me momentarily wonder what she looked like with the rest of her leather on. Not that I didn't mind. Say?” asked Lucas with a tone filled with ice. His eyes were similarly cold and dark, mirroring the atmosphere, no emotion other than anger and rage could be seen in them. However, if anyone had the awareness and was able to look deep into their depths, a big amount of worry could be seen.The guys finally realized the abnormalities around them, and Lucas entered an alert state. As they got into a battle formation, the guy in the center said with a voice full of arrogance, “My friend here said.