Melissa was standing in front of them. She'd beenordered to dress in her "discipline slip" for the occasion. It was a plainwhite satin slip, slit down...the back and tied closed with ribbons.Additional ribbons formed the straps over the shoulders. This allowed thegarment to be removed easily over bound hands and feet."Quickly now. Don't embarrass me in front of Paul." her father commanded.Blushing deeply, Melissa raised the hem of her slip a scant couple ofinches. The way her lithe young thighs. He rubbed in a steady tempo, not wanting to lose his load too soon. This was better than he had expected, very much better than the telescope in his bedroom, which was really, much too far away to get the real feel of being up close and personal. This was like being in the room with her. He could almost smell her perfume. Almost taste her dirty cunt in its white, lacy cocoon. Almost feel her tits as he moulded them in his rough, calloused hands, just as she was doing.And then, joy of joys, she. My wife, Ohgirl, would often pull my cock from my pants, as we were driving home, and suck it until I thought I would cum. We would have half of our clothes torn off before we even got into the house, only to ravish each other on the floor, the steps to our bedroom, or once, on the hood of her car, in the garage. I remember fucking her like an a****l from behind, as her breasts were bouncing and sliding across the car’s hood, buffing the exterior. Although we enjoyed watching the action in. The place began to fill up. A broad, stocky, ruddy fellow grabbed the seat next to Jim. “Hey, brother!”“Hey,” Jim offered cautiously.“Good place?”“Yeah! I don’t usually come here.”“Why not?”“I usually just have a beer at home.”“Long day, brother?”“Kinda.”“I understand. It ain’t easy for us. I’m Doug,” he extended his hand.“Jim,” the man shook back with a tight grip.“I see you suit!”“Huh?”“I’m a construction guy. You’re a suit. I ain’t mad at ya.”“Where are you from?”“Kentucky. Bluegrass.
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