But in this it was almost from the start. Perhaps that was the reason for my unease. After all it had taken a long time to abolish the feeling that I ...as disobeying my Dad’s trust by going to school without knickers on and strutting around the house naked, so maybe this newer, naughtier book was tugging at my conscience. Leafing to the last page I started off from where I left it.Dad came home the next night with an arm full of Easter chocolate and the usual hugs and smiles. We watched black. I wanted to say something, but I knew that if I opened my mouth, I would just ask him to fuck me again, so I didn’t. When he was done, I bent over to wash my face that was a mess, trying to avoid getting my hair wet. I felt him moving behind me, I could feel his body pressing me against the sink while he held my hair.'I never spanked someone before or called them slut but I could do it again and I know you’d like it. I would just have to lift your dress up. Would I find you wet if I did it?' He. They consisted of an old ratty pair of my sweats, the pants she had cut off and made into shorts, almost too short as I'd seen the lower part of her firm ass cheeks when she'd bent over before. But even the sweat top she was wearing was sexily provocative. She had cut it off baring her midriff, the top just barely concealing her breasts. The fact she was my own mother still didn't fail to get an appreciative look from me when I'd seen her in it the first time, but it was now even more so after. When she came out, the living room was empty but the bedroom door was half-open. She timidly entered. Only the bedside lamp was on, casting a warm but smooth light. The man was lying on a king size bed wearing just his underwear, his gorgeous wife on him, kissing him with passion. She was only wearing a bra and a tiny little thong, just enough to highlight the lustiness of her curves. She stopped and came of the bed to greet Mari: “We were just waiting for you. I’m Lucie, he is Pierre. That is.