She placed her leather-booted foot on my face (which was turned to the side on the floor) and ordered me to lick the sole while she fucked me. Pre-cum...drooled out my swollen dick onto the floor.Grabbing me by the hair, she pulled me up to a standing position to face her, to look upon the woman who enslaved me. Long dark hair, penetrating eyes, full lips, fit, tan, toned, muscular - beautiful by any standard. She wore just the rings on her swollen nipples, her leather boots and her strap-on. After Dad died, and she cashed in his share of the realestate company, she changed. And not for the better." When Brooke and I were little, she was completely different. Shelaughed. She sang. She cracked jokes. She held tea parties with us. Shehad all kinds of friends." But, when Dad died, it was as if she thought God owed her the right totreat everyone like they were her servants, as compensation for losingher husband. I'm sure that's not really what she thinks, but it's thebest description I. I had spoken to her on a few occasions, and had bumped into her at the grocery store a few times, so we knew each other slightly, a "nodding acquaintance" as it were. Today she was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, so those legs were on display again, and her breasts were bouncing a little from her indignation."That still doesn't explain why you think I've been writing stories about you." I sent you an anonymous e-mail asking a question about a bondage scene in one story. When you replied, you used. It was going off to the side and back then I was just as big as I am now. It happened overnight you could say. Her eyes widened with amazement and then she said, "Stop! Come here let's get a good look at what he has under here." I walked over to the side of the bed and she drunkenly grabbed my pants by a belt loop and pulled me closer and she fumbled at my pants and zipper but she eventually got my pants open.She then stared up into my eyes as she pulled both my pants and boxer briefs down to.