"Ganz",folgte als Nachdruck und ich tat wie mir befohlen wurde.Als ich mich f?gte und mich aufs beugte und meinen Po herausstreckte,sp?rte ich schnell... aufeinander folgende Schl?ge auf meinen Po. Ichschrie und fing sofort an zu weinen. Ich wollte aufbegehren, aber siestriemte mir gleich weiter meine Po.Nach insgesamt 20 sehr harten Schl?gen mit einem Rohrstock war ich amEnde und sie unterbrach, setzte sich zu mir und fing einen langenMonolog an."So, pass mal auf, Chiara, oder besser Faras....Zum. Something..(smack).. do..(smack).. it..(smack)...” There was no malice in his voice only longing; and although, each smack was hard I couldn’t help but moan. It felt so good. “Yes, Jon,” I moaned out. “I promise it won’t happen again.” With a few more smacks he turned me around and leaned me back against the car. He slid his hand down and over my breast, down my stomach and straight to my vagina. ”Whose pussy is this?” he asked sliding a finger in. I moaned but couldn’t answer. It was my first. He couldn’t talk to any of us socially. And he was above dumbing himself down just to try and fit in. He was tall and skinny. Average-looking. Unathletic and clumsy. He moved awkwardly as if he wasn’t quite used to the way his body was built. He was certainly smart and a boon to anyone who ever needed a partner for a group project. But none of us thought of him as anything other than a schoolmate. When we met again almost eighteen years after graduation, he had filled out nicely. He put on a. He sucked gently on her neck and was rewarded with a low moan. Encouraged, Oliver pulled her skirt up over her ass cheeks, surprised and pleased to feel that she had opted for stockings and garters today rather than the usual pantyhose. She must have been looking forward to tonight as well!His touch confirmed it moments later, as he grabbed a cheek in each hand, pulling her ass to him and apart so that the fingers on his left hand could probe along the line of her thong to feel the wetness.