..Smack!Marci squeals out, realizing it was my hand and not the dreaded belt.Smack!Smack!Smack!Each successive blow of my hand intensifies. After the ...enth blow, I drizzle more oil on her rosy red buttock. Soothing the stinging sensation, Marci lays still and relaxes. Moving to the left buttock, I rub oil into her skin and begin administering the ten blows to her cheek.On the fourth blow, I notice a tear running down her cheek. The last six blows have been done in quick succession. Rubbing more. We hugged and kissed in the afterglow for several minutes I could feel the love pouring out from both of them and hoped they could feel my love for them pouring out as well. But knowing how easy it is to drift off to sleep like this, I got up and d**g the girls to the bathroom to clean up. I so enjoy washing them after making love and having them wash me. On more than one occasion that washing up has led to more sex, but not that night. We turned off the lights and headed back to bed. Now. " Oh," said Marigold, her hands fluttering to her face at being caught in a lie. "He's not really my husband yet. He's my fiancee."Marigold was still congratulating herself for the quick save when Adam said, "Still, no ring?" Err..." said Marigold. "We... that is... we'll have one soon... once we graduate. Bartholomew's going to be an electrical engineer. Then, we'll have a ring and a big wedding." Oh," said Adam. "Where do you go to school?" Harvard," said Marigold. "My husband goes to MIT.". Her dress was rumpled and pushed up around her waist. Black nylons, sheer enough to show how pale her skin was, tugged down to mid-thigh. Enough for him to get his head between pantyhose and her crotch. Her hands in his hair, twisting, pulling, evincing her need for his tongue in her nethers. The drumbeat of her heels on his shoulder blades. The soft moaning of her voice in the air. Her climax, so powerful, filling his mouth with thick fluids that gushed from inside her. Thighs squeezing his.