I was already hitting my stride. I had the baton firmly in my grip, and by the time my arm came forward, I was running toward the finish line like I w...s trailing in the race. I had no idea what time we had recorded in our first trial run, but I knew it was a fast one. When I crossed the finish line, the others were coming across the infield and Coach Lacefield was running to meet us. Then I saw Coach Dunavant coming our way, pumping his fist in the air.We looked up at the scoreboard to see our. The scenes of extreme torture depicted in this story must not be repeated, even with consent?Emeraude was really pleased, as the party seemed to be on a right path? no, it was not the fact of having a successful party, those parties were a common event. Every month during the school year and every two weeks on vacations her house greeted to all the friends she had made into the world BDSM circles. This party in particular pleased her so much because of the amount of new faces she could see from. I opened the door and the man came in and I showed him the kitchen. He placed the cylinder there and took the empty cylinder and was about to go back. At that time my mom came into the kitchen wearing only that wet towel and with the purse in her hand. She was not at all noticing that man and was looking into the purse for the change. Both I as well as the man was shocked seeing her in that state. He was eagerly and hungrily looking at my mom’s wet boobs over the towel as the boobs along with. He turned as she allowed her dress to fall to the floor. His eyes were on her high pert bare breasts as he approached her, unbuckling his belt.“Panties,” he said, and his tone made it a command. Fair enough, you’re the boss, she was thinking as she obeyed, and he came in close, allowing his pants to fall.She enjoyed the usual joy of his hand smoothing over her breast, while something, not mysterious, poked into her belly. God, it was ever rigid. And, as ever, she wanted it madly. But she was.