...gratitude goes both ways, even though ourpassion lies down a strange road...Daddy gently massaged the lotion into my back and thighs, being sodelic...te and soft on all the stinging pink streaks crisscrossing my ass,legs, and back by the dozen. We must have looked like a Helmut Newtonphoto there on the couch, in the light of the fireplace, me lying in hislap, mostly naked with my body coursed with signs of submission, andDaddy bare chested and calm, his strong controlling hand caring for. Me: In that case, don’t worry about it.I went to the trial room and knocked.Me: It’s me. Do you need any help? I’ve got some clothes here.Mom: More clothes? You’re going to make me bankrupt. Anyway, I was about to call you. Come in. I need help.I went in and locked the door behind me. I kept the lingerie near the heap of selected clothes. She was trying out the pencil skirt, and the zipper was stuck. Mom bent and made the skirt tight with her ass pushing out hard.Me: Mom, that’s not the way to. Angela is in every way your typical young women next door. A bit on the chubby side, blonde hair at shoulder length, always properly and modestly dressed. Everybody would agree she had the cutest smile on her pretty face. And for me it was certainly that pretty face that drew me to her. She just always had that little look in her eyes that seemed to tell me she could be into me. But I could never fix that gaze, as she would quickly look away or do something goofy when I tried to fix it. So I. I was too busy being scared shitless to pay much attention, but I remember him being called Colonel. I’ve never seen any of the women, though.”“So...” Jasmine said, teasingly, “you’re not going to make any comments about the women? Like, for instance that they’re absolutely beautiful?”“Hmmm. I guess they are pretty, but not nearly as pretty as the woman sitting beside me,” he tried.“Liar,” she said with a laugh, “but I love you anyway.”“Dammit, Jasmine. You are. Why won’t you realize.
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