Quite often on a Sunday afternoon, after a morning in the garden and a lovely beef roast and rice pudding lunch, he would settle himself in the leathe...r armchair with a glass of Brandy and listen to Janet play for half-an-hour or so. It was like her own personal recital to him. She would start off with perhaps a bit of Mozart, move on to Debussy and Bach, and finally end with a couple of Tom’s favourite piano sonatas by Schubert. The lilting music would take him down, relax him while he twirled. My head was dizzy. I don't remember walking home. I don't remember what I was thinking. My head held too many thoughts and conflicts and uncertainties. It seemed like a war with many factions and I couldn't figure out if the commotion was caused by me being new to cocksucking or if being fucked in the head twice by an older man and swallowing two loads of adult semen was enough to screw up anyone's thought processes.Above that mental battlefield were some things that seemed fixed and settled. . Is that clear?" Yes, ma'am." You will ask no questions and you will not dare refuse myinstructions-EVER!" No, ma'am." Good. Now get up, kick your pants and your skivies off, and go to thecorner as you have been told to do."The husband of the house, completely cowed, did as he was commanded.Never in his life had he felt so incredibly helpless. He had no hope.Jenny was going to get even with him for all of the abuse he had heapedon her. He wanted to accept it. He had it coming; he was willing. “You know, you really do look hot like that. It makes me want to fuck you.” That came as a bit of a surprise, but he was turned on, too: I could feel the swell of his cock inside his trousers, pressing against my leg. I put my hand on it, and massaged it gently, feeling it stiffen even more.“Come on then, big boy, let’s get back to your flat,” I giggled.“I don’t think I can wait that long, I want you now.”He placed his hand on my breast and began to knead it gently through my wet shirt. I could.