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Slap, Slap, Slap. Her hand came down again and again on the young, tender flesh. Paul's soft sissy ass cheeks were turning a warm, pinkie red. Bob stood over Emily his hands resting on her shoulders, his fingers gently massaging her as she spanked first one cheek and then the other. Emily face was flushed; from the effort and the feeling of power this was bringing her. She was enjoying it, enjoying it a lot. Slap, Slap, Slap. Her hand was hot and soft from hitting her sissy son's tender flesh. She looked up at Bob once more. He looked down and he understood. He leaned down and once more their hungry mouths met in a wanton kiss. Their lips crushed together, tongues lashed the inside of each other's mouths. Emily licked at Bob's lips, and smiled up at her brother her eyes filled with lust. A lust she had not felt since their childhood and their secret rendezvous in the old barn. "Now, now Emily, don't get carried away, spank the boy or let me do it," Bob whispered into her ear. Emily. " We were sitting in the sun room at the time when Sally posed the question."Where to start? young Harry was a very troubled young man. It was towards the end of the second world war; the family owned a large clothing factory. The father had been awarded a contract to provide uniforms for the services, being a conscientious person he threw himself into meeting production quotas. Sadly he pushed himself too hard to the point he collapsed with a massive stroke, he didn't recover. Young Harry was devastated but continued on, helping his mother run the factory."Harry at that time was seventeen and from what I've been told was a quiet individual. The factory continued to meet quotas and things ran smoothly for several months before disaster hit the family again. Harry's mother and sister had gone down to London to visit Harry's aunt, an unexploded bomb in the demolished house next to where the aunt lived suddenly became active; the whole family were killed."Faced with the death of his only.
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