Bucephalus was a calm horse, unlike his namesake, and accepted Tristan without issue. With his feet in the stirrups and his hands on the reins, Trista... took off. This was theft, and Tristan knew that once Reginald discovered his crime he would gather a search party to reclaim his wayward squire and prized horse, but Tristan did not care. He wanted freedom.Tristan tightened his legs around Bucephalus and the horse sped up to a full gallop. At the edge of Reginald's property was a short wooden. .." "HARDER BABY...FUCK YOUR MUMMY HARDER...OH, THE PERVERSION...MY OWN SON IS FUCKING ME...IT FEELS SO fucking GOOD...BABY..." The loud jazz music drowns out their moaning and the creaking of the bed. He moves up and down into his mother, while her hips grinds strongly up into him, matching him in tempo and power. He feels how his huge swollen dick goes deeper and deeper into the soft, warm folds of her secret place. He feels his cock-head bumping against the opening of his own mother's womb.. It is time to get going, I can sense playtime is over so I don't waste time and smack 3 times hard on her left and 1 hit on her right behind, with the palm of my right hand.1, 2, 3 times he hits me on the left, I gasp and try not to scream. When he hit me so hard on the right side I release all my tension and scream that I want it.I place my hands on her small waist and hold firm, while the head is leaning inside her vagina. Just for a heartbeat I wait, enough to make her hunger for my erect. Visions of girls sucking me off were drifting in my head. Giselle, girls from school, girls from magazines. My orgasm was building and my balls were tightening, and just as I was about to cum I grabbed the paper cup from my nightstand, stood up, aimed my cock, closed my eyes, and shot rope after rope into the cup before my spasms subsided. By that point, my knees were weak and I was leaning against the bed, so I put the cup on the nightstand and laid back down.When it was time to get ready.