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Yes, Sir, I respond. I know how much you enjoy seeing me in stockings, Sir.And the panties Taya? you ask in a scolding tone, and I yelp as you lash the back of my thighs with a riding crop.PLEASE SIR, I couldn't risk leaving the house without panties Sir! My husband was already suspicious with the way I am dressed.Without another word, I stay on my knees but begin to work my panties down over my hips. You watch me struggle as it is difficult to get panties past my knees and off of both feet while staying on my knees.The power trip is amazing as you grab your swelling crotch while watching this sexy, married woman totally focused on keeping my ass spread wide and elevated, while I work furiously to remove the final piece of silk fabric that hides my body from your eyes.we both understand WHAT will happen, but as I hold my position and you stare at my bald open gash, and my tight rosebud, neither of us yet know at what point, your anticipation will drive you into action.Dave turns his. I inserted it gently into her ass and tilted it up as she had done me. She let out a little scream that sounded more like enjoyment than pain and asked for a second. Someone took the bottle from me and refilled it and handed it back while Daniella had her hand over her ass. I again repeated this procedure 2 more times until she said. “Let me see, that might be enough.” I’m not sure what happened next, as her ass came right over my face and someone hands had me by the back of my neck and his hand pinching my nose closed when a torrent of nasty water erupted out of her ass into my mouth and all over my body. My head was pulled back and a hand over my mouth. “Drink it or drown Bitch”. I shook my head feverishly, but to no avail and finally the disgusting liquid was swallowed. No sooner did it hit my stomach than it began to come back up and cover me and Daniella’s ass. For the next few minutes I lay there, covered in shit, my own vomit and I continued to add to that.Everyone was.
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And as Jimmy and I got older. She dressed and acted a little differently around us. She would come down stairs once in a while, wearing just a loose fitting robe. Barely covering her bra and panties. Jimmy would yell “Ma! Axle is here!” or something along those lines at her. But she’d just blow him off, but every once I a while she’d give me this look. I used to think it was the “I know what you're up to” look.Axle was my nickname. Mrs. T dubbed me that one night, after a crazy block party. My dad was a little drunk, and slurred out that I could be a little asshole at times. But when he said it, all anyone heard was, little Axle. So Mrs. T took to it, calling me Axle ever since. It seemed to fit.Jimmy and I loved fast cars and fast girls. We both got jobs when we turned sixteen so we could get our first set of wheels. By the time we were eighteen, we both had our own hotrod project car. We’d tinker on them into the wee hours of the morning.Jimmy and I were out working on his car one.

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