Her hand encircled my spent shaft as she spoke bringing me back to full attention. "Can you handle me as well as I can handle you?" She asked again. ...I'll try, Miss," I said hoarsely. My cock was as hard as iron again. "You will do better than that," she said massaging me firmly. "Next time I want you to CANE ME. Hard! Understand?" "Yes, Miss," I whispered, delivering another load of sticky cream into her hand. It had been almost a week since that encounter and she just behaved as normal, not. There is a small TV on a end table on the far side of the room and a comfortable looking recliner next to the door. If the room had a bed it would have reminded Shelly of a hotel room minus the usual window. She puts the switch to the red position, kicking off her heels. she braces for the expected coolness from the linoleum she feels warmth creep into her feet. "What are you doing ... You shouldn't be here ... You're a married woman ... You're a mom for Christ's sake!" The mantra is working. More

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