I grew up with a gay dad, so I admit, I wasn't exactly against gays, but that didn't say I was one. My father wasn't just gay, he was a cross dressing...gay. He always went out in a dress, make up and high heels. I have no idea why he fell for my mom, but he did. I guess you could say that because of her, he became bi. As a child, after mom had died, I would ask, "Dad? Why do you dress as a girl?"He would reply, "I've always dressed as a girl, I stopped for your mother." I would than ask, "Why. Busy as I was with my lips and tongue bathing in her succulent juices, I became very aware of the gasps and groans of her breathing. Within a couple of minutes, her wetness was pulled away from my mouth as she slid her body down until we were face to face, and my erection was tight against her inner thigh."I think it's time we fucked, don't you?" she sighed, and I guess my face showed some kind of doubt, even though I wanted it desperately, for she added, "Don't be concerned. You've really. ”He read it and sat shaking his head. “We’ve been lax, haven’t we? We should have sent notice of Jesse’s phone number to all the clans immediately after he took possession of the house. It’s lucky you caught this e-mail.”Then he rose and strode across the room to a cabinet, opened it and took out a small book. He flipped through the pages and found what he needed. “Come, Jesse, I need you to make a call.”We went back up to the house and the study. On the way, he explained that I’d be calling a. He started spanking harder, each hit with that black paddle hurting more and more. My bottom felt like it was on fire. He whispered, "Beg me, little slut." My pussy was getting so wet. I tried to put my hand back there, but he pinned my hands behind my back. I really started begging, at first not liking it, but then I begged for more. I was so hot, I wanted to rub my clit. He kept going untill I had had 20 hits with that paddle on my bare ass. He let me go and I rubbed my bottom. He asked for.