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I smiled at his enthusiasm. Then I noted what he‘d just said and I exclaimed, “A gross of French letters? 144? That’s twelve dozen! I won‘t have a shred of pussy left! Not that I‘d mind, but 144?” He chuckled, “If those boys feel anything like I do right now, we might even run out at that!”I shivered with delight. Then I said with all the mock motherly fierceness I could manage, “Oh, all right. But you’d better mind me. Whatever I say goes! You understand that?” This ‘mother’ thing was getting to be a delight. I was beginning to realize that it could be applied in other situations to benefit more than just playing mothers and c***dren. It could also deliberately enhance the pleasures of sluts, studs and cuckolds too. It wasn’t dominance but firm, ‘I know what is best,’ guidance. ‘Just do as I say and we’ll all be happier.’ Yeah, this idea of motherhood was become more attractive. I was going to like it, and all the ‘mother-fucking‘ that went with it.“You’re sure?” I asked, staring. .” “Fuck you and fuck that old bastard, Malcomb! I don't need to talk to either of you! Leave me the fuck alone!” She was even more rude than Dean Malcomb had said she was. Jason mentally gave the rebellious girl an order. 'Sandra, you will be at my home immediately after your last class today. If I am not there, you will quietly sit on my porch and wait for me. Do you understand?” “Yeah, I understand. What the fuck for?” “That's not important now. Just be there.” Jason snapped at her. He then wrote his address on a piece of note pad paper and handed it to Sandra. He then turned and walked away. Jason arrived home at about five-thirty that afternoon. There, on his porch, sat a disgusted looking Sandra Mills. His powers of command were apparently as strong as ever. When she spotted Jason she stood and began to yell. “Well it's about fucking time. I've been waiting here for over an hour. Now, what the fuck do you want with me?” Jason smiled at her as he stepped onto.
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When home, it was easy to slip back in through garage door, put her raincoat on and slip into bed without her husband stirring at all. Her body was marked, sore and in parts, swollen. She spent the better part of the morning in the shower once her husband left for work. While thinking of the events of the previous night, she couldn’t help but turn the shower head to her clit…twice. She said to herself, “What have I become?” But gave not one thought to changing anything. Over the next few days, she and Dawn had a couple of long talks. Despite some initial sparring, they both seemed to quickly realize that they had thoroughly enjoyed the entire evening. They got carried away wondering what their masters had in store for them next. They discussed the fact that neither one of them had done as much with another woman then they had done that night. While Susan readily admitted to loving her time kissing and fondling Dawn, the real kick was not in the lesbian act, but in the fact that her.

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