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I licked, and I nibbled, I cupped Master's balls, I grasped his big cock. I licked around the knob, and I took it in my mouth. I worked for a time just on that, and then went deeper. In and out, holding the cock hard in my hand, and then relaxing pressure. I took it as deep as I could, choking, spluttering, coming off for air, but instantly diving back down for more. I tried all I could to extract his juices.And then I was pushed away. Time had expired. Like you, I fell back, gasping, recovering."You are the two worst cock suckers for sluts I've ever had. You, you old whore, just scape a five." I had won! Well, this test at least. I would not be receiving ten strokes from the crop. But you would. Without any delay, Master said, "Last test. Rimming. And yes, I *am* clean, lucky for you whores. One minute."And at that, I felt Master's bottom pressed against my face. Oh, he was starting with me this time.Well, this was pretty disgusting and degrading, but I took him at his word that he. So I’d put all my kit together in a shoulder bag, and off I set. Was I dressed for cycling? Head protection, and all the right gear? NO. It was, as I said a hot sunny day. So I had a little blouse, tied under my bust, and skimpy shorts. Off I set from my village, it was only three miles, and it felt great cycling along the country lanes, the breeze blowing all around my naked flesh keeping me cool. I’d gone no more than half a mile, when I came to Barker’s hill. This was something you never even notice when you’re driving your car. It’s no more than a slight descent, twisting its way for about half a mile down hill. At first as my bike picked up speed, and I didn’t have to pedal, I thought to myself, ‘This is great, flying along, only the noise of the tyres on the road.’ Then I came to one of the temporary 20 MPH speed limit signs. This was obviously there because they’d re-surfaced the road. This had been done about three days ago, and the traffic had taken most of the gravel from.
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