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There was a brief pause as my mom stared at me, then quickly got onto her knees on the bed and peeled off my boxers. She stared deeply into my eyes as she licked the tip of the penis slowly. “Can I face fuck you?” I asked“psh what is it about men and doing that?.... yes, you can “face fuck’ me….I love you baby” she said as I grabbed her ponytail and commenced skull fucking the shit out of her.She took it like a champ.I skull fucked her for a few minutes before she took it out of her mouth and slowly licked up and down the shaft. “mmmmmmmmhhhhmmm” was all she said as she put it back in her mouth, never breaking sensual eye contact with me.“oh fuck yea” I said, struggling to speak it felt so good. I looked down at the amazing sight before me and thought of how devastating it would be if either Tony OR dad walked in. I began to stare with fascination at my mom’s awesome ass and I started to gently run my hands over her ass cheeks. Slowly, my fingers crept onto her G-string and soon I. And it hasn't suffered any by me giving your lectures at theuniversity."The argument continued, with my voice rising, while Joan remained calmbut firm in her determination to have her way. As I became more andmore frustrated, tears started to flow. Hysterically I began to beat onJoan's chest with my clenched fists shouting, "I hate you! I hate you!" Well," announced Joan threateningly, "I understand there is only oneway to deal with an hysterical wife, and you are certainly asking forit."Before I realized what was happening she had caught me by the arm andtwisted me over her knee. Her right hand came down solidly on my rump."Don't you dare!" I screamed, trying to kick myself free, but shecaught my legs between hers and held me firmly in position."Stop this nonsense at once," she ordered."I won't. You can't make me!" Once more the hand descended and my rumpstung again. "You let me go!" I shouted.The blows continued, each more painful than the last. In a few momentsmy screams had.
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Mmm ... mind ... mmm..."I laughed, and said, "Come on, baby, spit it out!"Her crimson became fluorescent. "I wonder if you'd go to the Sadie Hawkins dance," she rasped; then, "with me." She was not looking at me.I laughed, a belly laugh at this point. She looked stricken, and began to turn away; I took her hand, brushed it against my lips as before, and said, "I will gladly attend the dance with you, sweet Sally."Her fluorescence became radioactive; but somewhere in that nervousness, a smile emerged. "Okay," she croaked, scurrying away.The swings and errors of outrageous adolescent emotions stabilized, and we were able to resume normal conversation during the school day. The dance was another two weeks out; I asked my mother to assist me in learning to dance. Hell, she'd been bugging me to learn, as had my father; my sisters thought it was funny, watching me try to lead Mama, and following Dad, but we showed 'em.I was Freddy Astaire in no time. Well, no, but you get it.The night of.

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