In any case the short-haired slave gasped as the first stroke hit and her voice quivered significantly as she counted the stroke and thanked her maste....On the seventh stroke, she broke slightly and cried out. Squire Adamson waited patiently for her to regain her composure and force out “S-s-seven. Th-th-thank you, Master.”“You can do this,” said the Squire softly. “I know you don’t want to disappoint me in front of my guests.” He then struck suddenly with the paddle. The “snap” was. ... finally, on about the 8th or 9th morning, I had it completed, and with some major back thrown into it, I pushed it out into the blue water, in three sections. (These would be bolted together, once it was off the sand.) The finished product of my labor was a dock that floated on pontoons, anchored to the sandy bottom by a set of poles through loose sleeves, which would allow the dock to raise and lower with the tide. The end section spread out and around to form a kind of corral, open in the. He missed this; the taste of her, the rivers and hills of her body underneath his too-anxious palms: the smell of her skin, her neck, her hair. He could hardly keep himself from shaking with anticipation. Every inch of her carried his favourite tastes and scents. He loved her eager responses in their small, intimate touches: mouth on his ear, breath on his neck, the way her chest hitched when he kissed just below her throat. At this rate they wouldn’t even be able to make the short distance to. ” “See honey, Sylvia was right, you’re so horny, you couldn’t wait, you just went down me.” Your legs are apart as I start to worship your pussy. You get the best oral you’ve had for a long time in both intensity and duration. My mouth goes from slow gentle licks to me devouring your pussy. I feel the wetness grow and grow as the sheets start to get a huge wet spot. You look down and say, “I love this. Tell me what you want, what you crave.” I look up and blush, “It’s kind of embarrassing.