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All the sights and sounds and the touch of the lace threw me over board and i groaned out a great cum . i soaked those panties good , and the chicks loved it. my wife said to me after a minute or two to get cleaned up and get down stairs. i got cleanedup quick and dressed and got downstairs and as i came down i noticed that all the girls were dressed like doms. my wife came up to me and slapped me right in the face. "what the fuck are you doing in mens clothes panty boy. you will never present your self to us like this,you will be dressed as a women,everything you need is in your 2nd drawer of the dresser now moveit . oh i've been taping your jerk off sessions for months we got some cool tapes for you to see later " i scurried up the stairs and did as she told me to and as i was about to go down stairs i looked in the mirror and what a sight. lace panties, a padded bra , garter, stockings , heals,and a teddy. not bad if i do say so myself. so i hurried down stairs and my. After seeing her naked, I became somewhat fixated on her. I started window peeping on her. I would fix the curtains in her bedroom so that they appeared to be fully closed, but would leave just enough of an opening that I could spy on her from outside while masturbating.We lived in a fairly undeveloped rural area and were surrounded by woods. Our nearest neighbors on the side of the house where her bedroom and behind the house were not within sight, so I could slip around the house without having to be worried about being seen. We had an area of closely located pine trees and evergreen bushes that created a natural shelter area where I would regularly take my sleeping bag and camp out when I just wanted to be alone. It became my home base of operations for things to come. Dad was working two jobs and was gone all the time. He always got home late at night. One night after I had taken my sleeping bag and gone to my spot, I heard a car coming down the road and noticed that it.
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What drove his passion hardest wasn't the softness of her skin, the sexiness of her body, nor the scent of her perfume, delightful as all three were. It was the emotion on her face, the helplessness, as if she was a real slave. Phil owned her, so only his feelings mattered. The sense of liberation that gave him was extraordinary. It was belied by how wet her cunt was, a wetness totally at odds with the expression of fear and pain on her face. He fingered her, far from gently, pulling on her clit, rubbing it, invading her with his fingers. And, sure enough, her face began to soften. "You have to cum right here in the bar," he ordered. "Quietly, bitch." His fingers began rubbing her clit and g-spot, catching them in a pincer motion.Squeeze. Rub. Squeeze. He couldn't tell what was arousing her more, the motion of his fingers or the cruelties from his mouth. "I'm going to use you, bitch. I'm going to finger-fuck you here, then I'm going to take you home, I'm going to whip you, and then.

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