“I could be your woodland boy.”That’s when I knew I could have him. And now I was having him—not in the woods behind the house but more safely...private, in the house, in my bedroom, on my bed. I gripped him tight. Thrusting, thrusting. Pounding. Lost in the fuck. He moved languidly under me.“Oh, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. Yes, Daddy. Please be good to me, Daddy.”I pounded his ass. I took him hard. He was stroking his cock and shot up my belly. And then it was my turn. Blasting him deep, pulling the. It looked impeding but notsomething that would make one freeze in place. Apparently, he had donnedevery pair of pantyhose that existed in our home alternating betweenlayers top to bottom. He looked to be a mannequin devoid of any naturalform and quite stuck in a singular position."Let's have it Charlie," I demanded in an exasperated tone, from the topof the stairs. This high perch looking down on the individual that wascaught in a strange position to say the least, would normally. More

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