“What… how….” Words are a jumbled mess.“Oh, come on, sweet cheeks. You can’t hide this from me. Which do you love more, this?” You squ...eze my nipple. “Or this?” You slap my bum.A laugh explodes from within and my bottom arches into your hand as answer.You giggle, “You’ve got the finest ass in the county and I get to play with it.”I blush deeply knowing it is not true and loving you for saying so anyway.We fall into a rhythm, your spanking hand on my rotating, arching bottom. The pace. They died in a fiery car crash on their way home from seeing my younger sister in Olean, New York. They lived in Jamestown almost all their lives and in the same house since I turned seven. It was a hundred year old house with two floors, an attic, and a basement. The stairs were narrow, barely two feet wide and very steep. My bedroom in the attic was very small only six by eight feet with slanted ceilings due to the roof. My younger sisters and younger brother slept on the second floor on each. More

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