The slap to my buttocks stole my thoughts. Leaving only the heat and sting across softly jiggling skin. Again and again. My breath stopped. My cunt we...t. My brain whipped wildly between wanting and not wanting.Just when I'd adjusted to the rhythm of slap and wait he pressed his cock to my hole. My body was too lost in the rough and tumble of restrained force to voice an objection. My fingers dug into the quilt below me. I was wrestling with the idea of twisting, turning and rolling out from. He made it sound like there were three people there. Me, him and Mr. Happy. Whatever he said it worked. I had the very best time of my life learning about little Mr. Ed. Touching, feeling, squeezing, spotting the precum and slipping it between my fingers, finding one testicle, then the other, which was bigger, which was lower, what sent him up about two feet when I squeezed the wrong spot and how the glans was so similar to a persons tongue and the coronial ridge was designed to bounce along. More

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