I actually approach my mother's waving ass cheeks with my hands spread to cup them before tearing my eyes away from them and going around the table to...see if she is showing any skin down the top of her dress.I almost trip as I get to the other end of the table. From the side, I can tell that the dress she is wearing today has a scoop neckline and is fairly low cut. I'm going to get to see her cleavage! Oh, lordy, lordy me! Maybe even a bit of aureole if the gods are truly smiling at me, but. I hope the enclosed photographs will make up for that in some small way. If not, I’m sure you’ll have used our forced time apart to come up with some deviously appropriate punishment.I miss you.Love,hHe smiles to himself; she knows him almost too well. He has, in fact, been planning something, but it would unfortunately have to wait. The photographs, though . . . he is pleasantly surprised to receive them, knowing full well how much she despises being the subject of any picture. Photograph #1A. For me and for him both so far as I could tell. He was like me in many ways...brought up under strict schooling and English discipline...private boarding school where all manner of nasty things go on at the dead of night, but no more of that. But it meant that we had both been beaten by senior boys, - who no doubt got one hell of a sexual thrill out of it tho' they claimed they were simply maintaining discipline and it was nothing personal.....you bet it wasn't. How many of them went off. She would get Edwin’s opinion and feedback after he tried her out. Really, that was all that mattered. Cheryl asked permission to get some lubricant from the bathroom. When she returned, Edwin spent some time working the lotion all over her tits and cleavage and in the process most of her chest. Satisfied with his handiwork, you pushed down on Cheryl’s shoulders, signaling her to begin the task before her. Cheryl used her hands to compress her impressive rack around Edwin’s prick. Edwin guided.