She sees him pull his hand back, then spank her. Hard. And then again. Hard, on the same spot. she cries out in protest, every bit of her body extra s...nsitive in the aftermath of her orgasm. On the third blow, her hands go from underneath her and she collapses on the bed. her hands curl into the bed sheets again, this time from pain rather than pleasure.He continues to beat her, hitting the same spot on her bottom each time. she wriggles and writhes and moans and groans and cries out in pain.. So am I, my brain has been working overtime pumping these potent and addictive chemicals into my system. I was becoming addicted to the high she triggered. The scent from her skin, her breath, mixed with her pheromones to create the crack rock of hormonal highs I had never experienced before or since. We flopped down on the bed, oozing relief, my erection subsiding and Macy visibly trembling. "That was fucking scary." She confessed burying her head in my chest and hugging me tight. She smelled. Upon opening it and counting all of the contents, I found this morning was rather profiting. My thoughts were interrupted when my phone started going off. One of my other valued customers wanted to be serviced when it got dark and wanted to know where to meet. Thinking I could go for a meal I texted back to meet me at the Rose Café,. We decided upon a time and I spent the day preparing. I set out the perfect outfit, a skimpy black dress with a gold trim and high gold pumps. It was very. I quickly began assembling my mental outfit. I've never been a very formal guy. Never has a black-tie invitation arrived in my mailbox. Every job I've had has been pretty casual. I was making pretty decent money as King of the Warehouse, but the uniform was jeans and tees. A company emblazoned polo shirt if some bigwigs were due in for a tour. My upcoming position would require the half-step up to shirts with a full front of buttons. I dug around in my closet and found the leather shoes and.
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