Let the games begin! Running the deer skin flogger over her vulnerable breasts she was powerless but to squirm under the velvety caress. “Oh my...,” I exclaimed with mock concern, “I do so hope that didn’t hurt too much.” Her nipples stiffened in reply. Gentle strokes to her arse followed. She quivered ever so slightly fearing pain would come, but the easy steady tempo soon led her astray from her fears. Like a buggy ride on a sunny afternoon. I noticed her visibly relaxing and smiled. Now, after apologies etc. that match those of the principals of this tale, I must add a note of self-promotion. I have a famous ancestor. Unfortunately I don't know his name but I do know that he produced his masterpiece about 150 years ago. That could be a generational millennium for some members of my species but in my case, due to weather conditions, physical locations and (I like to believe) genetics, it was less than two handfuls. When I refer to my esteemed ancestor as Gramps you should. Before succumbing to therigors of fighting the younger, bolder gorillas, and likely dying, thegorilla was given the choice of a bloody death, or a new life in the bodyof the weakest, lowliest female gorilla. Amazingly, the gorilla undestoodthis choice and decided to continue its existence in the body of thefemale gorilla. Day after day after day, the gorilla engaged in intercourse with a varietyof the male gorillas in the group, but seemed neither unengaged norapprehensive. To the contrary, the. It was starting to feel like the more I got of it, the more I wanted! It was all I could do to wait until lunch to go rub one off. The next day, as I went to the restroom during my lunch break, I peeked around to see if he was in there. I didn’t see him, so I proceeded to rub myself to orgasm. But, when I came out, there he was, working on a sink and seemingly ignorant of my activities.The following day, the same thing happened. I felt an undeniable urge to bring myself to climax at lunch.