No, deeper. Not so hard. Yes. Faster. Slower. That's it. That's it. That's it! That's it! Oh!" she screamed, or words to that effect. She garbled the ...ast part. She stiffened. She shook. She screamed. The echo reverberated throughout the room. By the time she quieted down, she'd drawn a considerable audience (considerable, that is, for seven o'clock on a Thursday morning at the Y). They applauded, though I wasn't sure for whom. I pretty much kept to myself."What do you think?" Heather asked. My face is red with shame and my bottom feels like it's been stung by a swarm of bees. My husband Nicky is behind me whipping a cherry switch back and forth in the air...swish, swish, swish. "Husband," I love that word; my darling husband Nicky.Swish...THWACK "FUCK!"...the whippy switch bites low on my tender bottom, right at the top of my thighs."FOUR," I yell. ...I asked for it and I'm getting it. It's just what I deserve."Wipe," he orders and my hand moves immediately to my dripping pussy.. More

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