I was talking a walk in the park near my home, enjoying the scenery, when a particularly attractive sight caught my eye. At the side of the path, a woman had bent over to fix the shoelaces which had come undone, and her tight jeans offered a delightful view as they stretched over her shapely rear end. I stopped, drinking in the sight, smiling when her backside swayed enticingly as she tied her shoes. My eyes continued to travel over her body, when I suddenly noticed that she was looking straight at me. I felt that twinge of embarrassment that any young man feels when he's been caught gawping at an attractive woman.
She smirked at me as she rose, when her eyes suddenly widened. "Josh! It's you!"
Now that I heard her voice, and was looking at her face, I suddenly recognized her as well. "Hello, Marilyn," I mumbled, blushing bright red. It was one thing to be caught staring at the bottom of a woman I didn't know. It was quite another thing when the woman in question turned out to be my former babysitter.
"It's so good to see you," she exclaimed, giving me a warm hug. I was surprised; if she was upset at my leering, she was doing an admirable job of hiding it. "How have you been?"
Half an hour later, we were sitting at a café. I'd bought a black coffee, and she had ordered a glass of soda with a straw. We'd been chatting about the things we'd been up to in the years since we'd seen each other last.
"I've finished my second semester in college, and spent most of the summer working in a warehouse," I told her. "The pay's not great, but it's good exercise, at least."
She grinned. "I can tell." She leaned forward, running her hand across my chest to feel the muscles.
I paused; was she flirting with me? It certainly seemed that way to me. Or was I reading too much into things? I didn't want to misread her signals and ruin the mood. "Thanks," I mumbled.
She tapped her fingers on the table. "You know, you were a cute kid back then – and usually so well-behaved." She smirked. "Though there were a couple of times I had no choice but to take you over my knee."
I grimaced at the memory. As a young teenager, I had felt I was too old for a babysitter, and far too old for spankings. Unfortunately, my mother disagreed on both counts. "I remember. You always made it clear how disappointed you were when you were forced to do it. You hated spankings."
"Nuh-uh," she said, wagging her finger at me. "Not true. Not true at all. I hated to spank. Not the same thing." I frowned, not sure what she meant. She took a sip of her soda. "And you? How do you feel about spankings?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I think you know perfectly well how I felt about being over your knee," I told her. "Obviously, I hated being spanked."
A teasing smile played on her lips. "And how about being the one giving the spanking? How do you feel about that?"
I frowned, wondering why in the world we were talking about spankings. "I don't know," I told her. "I've never spanked anyone."
She looked into my eyes, clearly anxious to hear my response. "Would you like to?"
There was a long pause. "What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
She giggled. "Oh, Josh. You are so delightfully innocent." She toyed with a strand of her long, dark hair. "I mean that it's possible – just POSSIBLE, mind you – that I've been a naughty girl, and that I might need a strong young man to take me over his lap, bare my bottom, and give me what I need." She batted her eyelashes at me. "Can you think of someone fitting that description?"
I said nothing as I stared at her. This conversation was taking a very strange turn. "I… That's…" I paused, not entirely sure what to say.
She sighed. "Oh, come on, Josh. Please? Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a good-looking man to bend me over and spank me? I think you'd do a wonderful job. And we both know that you find my bottom attractive," she pointed out, causing me to blush. "Whenever I see someone staring at my butt, I start to wonder whether they could give me a good spanking – and as far as I'm concerned, you're pushing ALL the right buttons. How would you like to get your hands on my arse? ALL over it?" She smirked. "And, of course, if you were to do me this favour, I would be VERY grateful, and might just have to find a way to show you my appreciation…"
Before I could ask her what she meant, she leant down over her glass of soda and gently licked the tip of the straw. She slid it into her mouth, then ran her lips up and down on it – slowly at first, then gradually faster and faster.
I stared wide-eyed at her. I was not too dense to realize what she was miming. My trousers suddenly felt very tight.
She rose, a small drop of juice dripping down her chin. "What do you say?" she said in her sweetest, most innocent voice.
"This is my home," she said, beaming at me as she opened the door. Her flat was only a few blocks from the café, which was good; I had suddenly felt slightly dizzy, as if there wasn't a lot of blood flowing to my head. We entered the living room, and she nodded towards the couch. "Could you please sit down in the centre? I'd like to feel comfortable over your lap. Well, apart from the obvious…"
I nodded, taking a seat. She popped into her bedroom, returning a few seconds later, smiling as she held up her large, heavy wooden hairbrush. I swallowed, shifting in my seat; the sight of it had brought back some bad memories.
Noticing my reaction, she giggled. "Oh, don't worry, Josh. The big, bad brush won't hurt you. From now on, you're on the other end of it, aren't you?" She handed it to me. "I would suggest a good warm-up with your hand, a few minutes in the corner, and then a good dose of the hairbrush – though it's up to you, of course. You're in charge, after all."
"Sounds good to me," I told her. I was out of my element, and I was quite willing to follow her script. "Should we get started?" She nodded eagerly, and I thought back to my own punishments. "Right. Take those jeans down."
"No," she responded calmly.
I frowned. "No?"
She folded her arms in front of her chest, pouting. "I refuse."
For a few seconds, I was unsure of what to do, before I realized what was going on. "Young lady, you are being a brat. Take those trousers down now. If I have to take them down for you, you'll get extras."
She delivered the most insincere gasp I'd ever heard. "Oh, dear, oh dear. I don't want that, do I?" She pretended to consider my words. "Still, the answer is no."
I grabbed the waistband of her jeans, pulling her closer, and she squealed with delight. I fiddled with the button of the tight jeans, eventually getting it open – truth be told, I didn't have a lot of experience undressing women. Marilyn seemed to find my efforts amusing, but fortunately, she never tried to stop me. Eventually, though, I got them down to her knees, revealing a pair of pink panties with a cartoon bear on them. I pulled them down as well, revealing her moist sex. I must admit that I sat there staring far longer than what was necessary.
Marilyn sighed, displaying a hint of frustration. "Oh, please don't PULL ME OVER YOUR KNEE, Josh! I'll be good!"
I got the hint, immediately grabbing her arm and pulling her forward so that she fell over my lap. She stretched out on the couch, grinning to herself as she wriggled her backside enticingly. I started to rub her soft, beautiful orbs, and she squirmed a little.
I lifted my hand, smacking it down on her waiting bottom. Like I said, I'd never spanked anyone before, and decided to start gently, just in case I was stronger than I thought I was. There was no sound from her, so the next slap was quite a bit harder. Still no reaction, so I gave her a few hard slaps that rang out in the quiet room.
"Oh, Josh," she purred. "I'm beginning to think I've made the right choice." I grinned at the compliment.
With my left hand placed on the small of her back, my right hand slammed down on her pale cheeks, flattening them with every slap. After half a minute or so, I developed a rhythm, moving from cheek to cheek and delivering maybe two spanks a second or thereabouts. As the spanking went on, she began to wriggle a little over my lap, letting out little squeals in appreciation of my efforts.
I made sure to cover every inch of her beautiful bottom, spanking from the upper parts of her buttocks to the top of the thighs. I placed a few extra-hard spanks on the crease where her bottom met her thighs, knowing from experience that she'd feel them the next time she sat down.
"Oh! You're crueller than I expected, Josh," she exclaimed.
I blushed. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not," she said, grinning at me over her shoulder. "I wasn't complaining."
Eventually, her bottom was bright pink, and my hand was beginning to sting. "I think that's enough warm-up?" I suggested.
"S-sounds good," she responded. When she rose, I was surprised to see her eyes were moist. I reached my hand forward and dried her tears, and she smiled at me.
"Go stand in the corner," I told her. "Nose to the wall, hands on your head."
She nodded. "F-for how long…?"
"Until I tell you to come out," I responded, which she hopefully found suitably unhelpful. She blushed, giving me a half-smile as she shuffled off to the corner with her trousers and panties around her knees.
As I sat there, part of me wished I'd asked her for a cup of tea before we started. It'd taste lovely right about now, but I had no intention of trying to find her kitchen and making a cup – nor would I have time to both make and drink a cup of tea, as I only intended to leave her in the corner for ten minutes. At least I could sit here and admire her bare rear end. The pinkness only made it more attractive, I decided.
When the ten minutes were up, I cleared my throat. "You can come out now, Marilyn."
She turned around, her hands leaving her head to rub her sore seat.
"And now, it's time for –" I glanced around, frowning. Where had I left the hairbrush?
I rose, looking around the room. It had to be nearby, didn't it? Or had I placed it where one of Marilyn's kicking legs had shot it into a corner? I hadn't noticed anything like that, but then again, my attention had been elsewhere. I bent over to see whether it had fallen under the coffee table, when I heard a sharp crack, and pain exploded in my buttocks.
I spun around, both hands clutching my rear, to find Marilyn holding the hairbrush. It seemed she'd found it first. She was giggling, and there was a clear challenge in her gaze.
I stepped forward, taking the brush from her. The giggling stopped when she saw the look on my face. Placing one foot on the coffee table, I picked her up and laid her across my knee, leaving her dangling high over the floor. I delivered a dozen hard hand-spanks to her pink rear – six on each side. "Did you think that was funny, did you?"
She squealed. "No, Josh! I'm sorry, Josh!"
I continued to spank her, giving her another dozen smacks on each side. "Did you think doing that was appropriate?"
"No! No, it wasn't! Ow! I'm sorry!"
Deciding that her pleas sounded sufficiently sincere, I placed her on her feet again. She rubbed her sore cheeks, giving me a look of admiration. She'd tested me, and I had not been found wanting.
I sat back down on the couch, patting my lap. "Over my knee, young lady," I told her. She stepped forward, lowering herself over my lap. I patted back of the hairbrush against her quivering bottom, watching the goosebumps forming as she clenched and unclenched her cheeks. "Are you ready for your spanking, Marilyn?" I said, hoping I sounded stern.
"Yes, Josh," she mumbled, lowering her head and preparing herself.
The first crack of the brush against her bottom was followed by a howl, and she kicked her legs. It was clear the wooden hairbrush was far more effective than my hand – and also involved less discomfort on my end. I continued to slam the brush down on her bouncing buttocks, grinning as she bucked over my lap.
As I spanked, Marilyn yelped and squealed, eventually progressing to a running commentary. "Ow! Oh, that stings! Not so hard, please! Owie! No, not there – not my sit spots! Ouch!"
She yelped and squirmed freely, but I noticed that however hard I spanked, she never asked me to stop.
Her bottom was bright red by the time she howled out "I'm sorry! Please, Josh, that's enough, isn't it?"
I gave her another dozen firm spanks before I stopped the spanking, placing the brush on the table and rubbing her bottom gently with my hand. "How does it feel, Marilyn?" I asked.
"H-hot and stingy." Despite the tears pouring down her face, she smiled. "J-just the way I like it."
"That's good, but I'm afraid we're not quite done yet," I told her. She glanced over her shoulder at me, a slightly worried look on her face. "Do you remember what I told you before you went over my knee – that if I had to take your jeans down for you, you'd get extras?"
"Uh huh?" she said nervously as she nodded.
Smiling at her, I picked up the brush again.
"N-now, Josh, I'm sure that if we just talk about this, we'll – Ow! You meanie," she squealed as the first stroke fell.
I only gave her a dozen more strokes; her bottom looked very sore already, but I pride myself on being a man of my word.
After this, I let her cry over my lap for a few minutes, before helping her up. As soon as she rose, she kicked off her jeans and panties and began jumping from foot to foot, grimacing as she danced around the room while trying to rub the sting out of her tail. She stepped over to me, and I dried her tears as she grinned down at me.
"Oh, you're a natural at this. You know that, Josh? This must be what you were put on Earth to do! Are you sure this is your first time?" She winced, rubbing a particularly sore spot. "Ow! We're going to do this again sometime soon, right? Promise me that we'll do this again!"
I chuckled. "We'll see," I said noncommittally, though I had every intention of granting that wish. "Now, however, you said that you would reward me for my efforts?" I grinned as I nodded to the tent in my trousers.
Marilyn pouted, folding her arms in front of her chest and rolling her eyes. "You're dreaming. I suggested nothing of the sort," she declared haughtily – or as haughtily as she could while standing there naked from the waist down.
I frowned, unsure of what was going on. I couldn't have misread her signals at the café, could I? She hadn't exactly been subtle. Had she changed her mind? She was free to do that, of course – but I'd fulfilled HER wish, hadn't I?
Or was she expecting me to pull her back over my lap and spank her until she agreed to do what she'd promised? That was certainly possible, but if so, that was definitely something we should have discussed in advance, and I was uncomfortable pushing her like that.
Suddenly, she giggled. "Oh, Josh, don't look so sad! I'm only teasing you," she said. Giving me a quick kiss on the lips, she then knelt in front of me. She began to lower my zipper, bringing her mouth closer to the bulge in my jeans…
She smirked at me as she rose, when her eyes suddenly widened. "Josh! It's you!"
Now that I heard her voice, and was looking at her face, I suddenly recognized her as well. "Hello, Marilyn," I mumbled, blushing bright red. It was one thing to be caught staring at the bottom of a woman I didn't know. It was quite another thing when the woman in question turned out to be my former babysitter.
"It's so good to see you," she exclaimed, giving me a warm hug. I was surprised; if she was upset at my leering, she was doing an admirable job of hiding it. "How have you been?"
Half an hour later, we were sitting at a café. I'd bought a black coffee, and she had ordered a glass of soda with a straw. We'd been chatting about the things we'd been up to in the years since we'd seen each other last.
"I've finished my second semester in college, and spent most of the summer working in a warehouse," I told her. "The pay's not great, but it's good exercise, at least."
She grinned. "I can tell." She leaned forward, running her hand across my chest to feel the muscles.
I paused; was she flirting with me? It certainly seemed that way to me. Or was I reading too much into things? I didn't want to misread her signals and ruin the mood. "Thanks," I mumbled.
She tapped her fingers on the table. "You know, you were a cute kid back then – and usually so well-behaved." She smirked. "Though there were a couple of times I had no choice but to take you over my knee."
I grimaced at the memory. As a young teenager, I had felt I was too old for a babysitter, and far too old for spankings. Unfortunately, my mother disagreed on both counts. "I remember. You always made it clear how disappointed you were when you were forced to do it. You hated spankings."
"Nuh-uh," she said, wagging her finger at me. "Not true. Not true at all. I hated to spank. Not the same thing." I frowned, not sure what she meant. She took a sip of her soda. "And you? How do you feel about spankings?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I think you know perfectly well how I felt about being over your knee," I told her. "Obviously, I hated being spanked."
A teasing smile played on her lips. "And how about being the one giving the spanking? How do you feel about that?"
I frowned, wondering why in the world we were talking about spankings. "I don't know," I told her. "I've never spanked anyone."
She looked into my eyes, clearly anxious to hear my response. "Would you like to?"
There was a long pause. "What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
She giggled. "Oh, Josh. You are so delightfully innocent." She toyed with a strand of her long, dark hair. "I mean that it's possible – just POSSIBLE, mind you – that I've been a naughty girl, and that I might need a strong young man to take me over his lap, bare my bottom, and give me what I need." She batted her eyelashes at me. "Can you think of someone fitting that description?"
I said nothing as I stared at her. This conversation was taking a very strange turn. "I… That's…" I paused, not entirely sure what to say.
She sighed. "Oh, come on, Josh. Please? Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a good-looking man to bend me over and spank me? I think you'd do a wonderful job. And we both know that you find my bottom attractive," she pointed out, causing me to blush. "Whenever I see someone staring at my butt, I start to wonder whether they could give me a good spanking – and as far as I'm concerned, you're pushing ALL the right buttons. How would you like to get your hands on my arse? ALL over it?" She smirked. "And, of course, if you were to do me this favour, I would be VERY grateful, and might just have to find a way to show you my appreciation…"
Before I could ask her what she meant, she leant down over her glass of soda and gently licked the tip of the straw. She slid it into her mouth, then ran her lips up and down on it – slowly at first, then gradually faster and faster.
I stared wide-eyed at her. I was not too dense to realize what she was miming. My trousers suddenly felt very tight.
She rose, a small drop of juice dripping down her chin. "What do you say?" she said in her sweetest, most innocent voice.
"This is my home," she said, beaming at me as she opened the door. Her flat was only a few blocks from the café, which was good; I had suddenly felt slightly dizzy, as if there wasn't a lot of blood flowing to my head. We entered the living room, and she nodded towards the couch. "Could you please sit down in the centre? I'd like to feel comfortable over your lap. Well, apart from the obvious…"
I nodded, taking a seat. She popped into her bedroom, returning a few seconds later, smiling as she held up her large, heavy wooden hairbrush. I swallowed, shifting in my seat; the sight of it had brought back some bad memories.
Noticing my reaction, she giggled. "Oh, don't worry, Josh. The big, bad brush won't hurt you. From now on, you're on the other end of it, aren't you?" She handed it to me. "I would suggest a good warm-up with your hand, a few minutes in the corner, and then a good dose of the hairbrush – though it's up to you, of course. You're in charge, after all."
"Sounds good to me," I told her. I was out of my element, and I was quite willing to follow her script. "Should we get started?" She nodded eagerly, and I thought back to my own punishments. "Right. Take those jeans down."
"No," she responded calmly.
I frowned. "No?"
She folded her arms in front of her chest, pouting. "I refuse."
For a few seconds, I was unsure of what to do, before I realized what was going on. "Young lady, you are being a brat. Take those trousers down now. If I have to take them down for you, you'll get extras."
She delivered the most insincere gasp I'd ever heard. "Oh, dear, oh dear. I don't want that, do I?" She pretended to consider my words. "Still, the answer is no."
I grabbed the waistband of her jeans, pulling her closer, and she squealed with delight. I fiddled with the button of the tight jeans, eventually getting it open – truth be told, I didn't have a lot of experience undressing women. Marilyn seemed to find my efforts amusing, but fortunately, she never tried to stop me. Eventually, though, I got them down to her knees, revealing a pair of pink panties with a cartoon bear on them. I pulled them down as well, revealing her moist sex. I must admit that I sat there staring far longer than what was necessary.
Marilyn sighed, displaying a hint of frustration. "Oh, please don't PULL ME OVER YOUR KNEE, Josh! I'll be good!"
I got the hint, immediately grabbing her arm and pulling her forward so that she fell over my lap. She stretched out on the couch, grinning to herself as she wriggled her backside enticingly. I started to rub her soft, beautiful orbs, and she squirmed a little.
I lifted my hand, smacking it down on her waiting bottom. Like I said, I'd never spanked anyone before, and decided to start gently, just in case I was stronger than I thought I was. There was no sound from her, so the next slap was quite a bit harder. Still no reaction, so I gave her a few hard slaps that rang out in the quiet room.
"Oh, Josh," she purred. "I'm beginning to think I've made the right choice." I grinned at the compliment.
With my left hand placed on the small of her back, my right hand slammed down on her pale cheeks, flattening them with every slap. After half a minute or so, I developed a rhythm, moving from cheek to cheek and delivering maybe two spanks a second or thereabouts. As the spanking went on, she began to wriggle a little over my lap, letting out little squeals in appreciation of my efforts.
I made sure to cover every inch of her beautiful bottom, spanking from the upper parts of her buttocks to the top of the thighs. I placed a few extra-hard spanks on the crease where her bottom met her thighs, knowing from experience that she'd feel them the next time she sat down.
"Oh! You're crueller than I expected, Josh," she exclaimed.
I blushed. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not," she said, grinning at me over her shoulder. "I wasn't complaining."
Eventually, her bottom was bright pink, and my hand was beginning to sting. "I think that's enough warm-up?" I suggested.
"S-sounds good," she responded. When she rose, I was surprised to see her eyes were moist. I reached my hand forward and dried her tears, and she smiled at me.
"Go stand in the corner," I told her. "Nose to the wall, hands on your head."
She nodded. "F-for how long…?"
"Until I tell you to come out," I responded, which she hopefully found suitably unhelpful. She blushed, giving me a half-smile as she shuffled off to the corner with her trousers and panties around her knees.
As I sat there, part of me wished I'd asked her for a cup of tea before we started. It'd taste lovely right about now, but I had no intention of trying to find her kitchen and making a cup – nor would I have time to both make and drink a cup of tea, as I only intended to leave her in the corner for ten minutes. At least I could sit here and admire her bare rear end. The pinkness only made it more attractive, I decided.
When the ten minutes were up, I cleared my throat. "You can come out now, Marilyn."
She turned around, her hands leaving her head to rub her sore seat.
"And now, it's time for –" I glanced around, frowning. Where had I left the hairbrush?
I rose, looking around the room. It had to be nearby, didn't it? Or had I placed it where one of Marilyn's kicking legs had shot it into a corner? I hadn't noticed anything like that, but then again, my attention had been elsewhere. I bent over to see whether it had fallen under the coffee table, when I heard a sharp crack, and pain exploded in my buttocks.
I spun around, both hands clutching my rear, to find Marilyn holding the hairbrush. It seemed she'd found it first. She was giggling, and there was a clear challenge in her gaze.
I stepped forward, taking the brush from her. The giggling stopped when she saw the look on my face. Placing one foot on the coffee table, I picked her up and laid her across my knee, leaving her dangling high over the floor. I delivered a dozen hard hand-spanks to her pink rear – six on each side. "Did you think that was funny, did you?"
She squealed. "No, Josh! I'm sorry, Josh!"
I continued to spank her, giving her another dozen smacks on each side. "Did you think doing that was appropriate?"
"No! No, it wasn't! Ow! I'm sorry!"
Deciding that her pleas sounded sufficiently sincere, I placed her on her feet again. She rubbed her sore cheeks, giving me a look of admiration. She'd tested me, and I had not been found wanting.
I sat back down on the couch, patting my lap. "Over my knee, young lady," I told her. She stepped forward, lowering herself over my lap. I patted back of the hairbrush against her quivering bottom, watching the goosebumps forming as she clenched and unclenched her cheeks. "Are you ready for your spanking, Marilyn?" I said, hoping I sounded stern.
"Yes, Josh," she mumbled, lowering her head and preparing herself.
The first crack of the brush against her bottom was followed by a howl, and she kicked her legs. It was clear the wooden hairbrush was far more effective than my hand – and also involved less discomfort on my end. I continued to slam the brush down on her bouncing buttocks, grinning as she bucked over my lap.
As I spanked, Marilyn yelped and squealed, eventually progressing to a running commentary. "Ow! Oh, that stings! Not so hard, please! Owie! No, not there – not my sit spots! Ouch!"
She yelped and squirmed freely, but I noticed that however hard I spanked, she never asked me to stop.
Her bottom was bright red by the time she howled out "I'm sorry! Please, Josh, that's enough, isn't it?"
I gave her another dozen firm spanks before I stopped the spanking, placing the brush on the table and rubbing her bottom gently with my hand. "How does it feel, Marilyn?" I asked.
"H-hot and stingy." Despite the tears pouring down her face, she smiled. "J-just the way I like it."
"That's good, but I'm afraid we're not quite done yet," I told her. She glanced over her shoulder at me, a slightly worried look on her face. "Do you remember what I told you before you went over my knee – that if I had to take your jeans down for you, you'd get extras?"
"Uh huh?" she said nervously as she nodded.
Smiling at her, I picked up the brush again.
"N-now, Josh, I'm sure that if we just talk about this, we'll – Ow! You meanie," she squealed as the first stroke fell.
I only gave her a dozen more strokes; her bottom looked very sore already, but I pride myself on being a man of my word.
After this, I let her cry over my lap for a few minutes, before helping her up. As soon as she rose, she kicked off her jeans and panties and began jumping from foot to foot, grimacing as she danced around the room while trying to rub the sting out of her tail. She stepped over to me, and I dried her tears as she grinned down at me.
"Oh, you're a natural at this. You know that, Josh? This must be what you were put on Earth to do! Are you sure this is your first time?" She winced, rubbing a particularly sore spot. "Ow! We're going to do this again sometime soon, right? Promise me that we'll do this again!"
I chuckled. "We'll see," I said noncommittally, though I had every intention of granting that wish. "Now, however, you said that you would reward me for my efforts?" I grinned as I nodded to the tent in my trousers.
Marilyn pouted, folding her arms in front of her chest and rolling her eyes. "You're dreaming. I suggested nothing of the sort," she declared haughtily – or as haughtily as she could while standing there naked from the waist down.
I frowned, unsure of what was going on. I couldn't have misread her signals at the café, could I? She hadn't exactly been subtle. Had she changed her mind? She was free to do that, of course – but I'd fulfilled HER wish, hadn't I?
Or was she expecting me to pull her back over my lap and spank her until she agreed to do what she'd promised? That was certainly possible, but if so, that was definitely something we should have discussed in advance, and I was uncomfortable pushing her like that.
Suddenly, she giggled. "Oh, Josh, don't look so sad! I'm only teasing you," she said. Giving me a quick kiss on the lips, she then knelt in front of me. She began to lower my zipper, bringing her mouth closer to the bulge in my jeans…
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