Stripes of pain blossomed across his back as the whip connected again. He cried out, twisting slightly in an effort to avoid the third blow. Suspended...by his wrists and unable to get to his feet, he might as well not have bothered. Any attempt at struggling only brought protests from numb and cramped muscles. The beating stopped. Matthew knew she was not done yet. His head drooped with exhaustion as he waited for her next move. He listened for the slightest sound as he concentrated on his. I was a 34B cup and she was at least a 38D. Steve had never indicated to me that he was a breast man. The one time I did mention getting a boob job he came unglued and told me that mine were perfect and not to touch them. What else did the cunt have going for her besides tits? I treated Steve like a fucking king for Christ's sake and he was out screwing around on me? I didn't wait to see what time Steve and his cunt would come out of the room. I just went home and was in bed pretending to be. He was way too tall to be Sicilian,yet his skin had that smooth tanned olive look and his hair was black velvet.Well muscled without added help from free weights or hydraulic gym machines,his physique together with his height – six feet four inches – madefor a imposing look. Everyone literally looked up to him at work, and no onedreamt of ever fucking with him lest they would be cast into the eternal pitof damnation, which meant that they would never be promoted or trusted to handleanything. One Sunday at an open house that wasn’t going exactly as I had hoped, my dirty mind kicked in and as I was looking at some family photos on the coffee table, I began to think of the owners wife and daughters and how sexy, especially the Mom was and before I knew it I was in the master bedroom sliding open Mom’s panty drawer and looking through the soft silk panties that lay before me. My heart was beating like I was 16 again from the excitement of being in the bedroom alone, I hadn’t been in a.