"What about another appearance?" Been there, done that, I am not going to do it again."I quickly changed the subject. "It bothers me, too, that we've ...till got kids quaking in their socks when they're called up for The Program, especially in the freshman class. Maybe they wouldn't be so scared if they knew what it was really like. When was the last time the school paper did a story on The Program, something to take the edge off in here?" It's been a long time," Mrs. Devers admitted. "Now that. She sat, her shoulders slumped, chest hitching with each sob. Gathering herself, she left the bathroom and walked towards the stairs. She heard Andy laughing, his voice getting closer to the doorway, she couldn’t face him. She slipped quietly into Michael’s room and closed the door silently, waiting in the shadows as Andy passed the door. Michael was startled, he was stood still, his ear pressed to the wall in the dark, holding his breath. In the bathroom, Andy turned on the taps, masking the. I kept my distance. Some of the wives started pulling their husbands into the dance area. Manish pushed me into the middle of the dancing folks. He said, "Have fun buddy". I was bit timid, since I am a single, divorced guy in my 30s and not used to having with so many Indian people around me. Since the light wasn't so bright, I saw a woman, probably in her early thirties, was pulling my hand in and started to groove to the music. The beer got to me a bit and I stared at her. She was wearing a. “Now, open your fucking mouth.” Your patience had run out, and I obediently opened my mouth. Without hesitation, you stuffed a few pieces of tissue paper in, effectively silencing me. You lifted a hand and roughly slapped my face, not once, not twice, but three times. My face stung and burned by the time you finished, but the paper had kept my whines muffled. “Perfect.” You mused aloud. Your cock was still hard, despite all the time between the blowjob and now. Then again, slapping me was.