They were both as big as apricots and each were pulsing like little hearts, threatening to pop from the copious liquid within. She squeezed them both ...retty hard, expecting Bobby to yelp in pain, but he never did. It seemed his package could take some punishment. That was good to know, Samantha loved torturing boy-balls and punishing them to point of almost popping. Her own son was a little faggot compared to Bobby. Mark couldn't take a single knee to his pea-sized pebbles without puking.. .. but we were ashamed. Both of us. We couldn't talk about what we were doing, what we were feeling. It was guilt and shame and a hundred other things," she said sadly. "We started to have little arguments... over nothing. At first they'd just be small outbreaks that we'd end by making love. But they got worse as the months passed. One night we finally had a huge argument. I accused him of raping me, of being a beast, an animal, the worst father in the world. He called me a slut, a little whore. Touching her lightly with his fingertips all over her body, him feeling the light tremors going through her body from the unexpected touches. He tore at the lace material that was her underwear and simply unhooked her bra, tossing it all to the side and took to her legs with light kisses going up her inner thighs, teasing her, feeling her squirm and try to move away from him, yet he continued to kiss his way up and around her phat pussy until suddenly taking hold of her clitoris and. Then I realized that she had never called me nicknames except for the “Iceman”. “eh, at least now she called me a nickname that I kinda like between Anne and me”. I said ignoring the nickname she just called me.5 hours of driving finally we are 5 minutes away from seeing my super hot aunt. “Ice, your uncle and I are gonna chill up his farm for a couple of days because we are gonna fix some things there. And since your with company with Anne its okay? Right?” he said. “uh… ya that would be.