.. fine." He smiledand fluttered his eyes. "And how are you... Mock-Mock?" Oh, you are such a minx with those nicknames." Mmmm. And I have another ...one." Cat patted a spot alongside where helay. "Sit yourself down so I can reach your Mock-Stick."The pajama-wearing purloiner placed himself there and, as if with a willof its own, Cat's hand settled on his thigh. Against his will, the heroslid his fingers -- why did he have painted nails? -- through the fly andfelt around. He located and. Steven licked his lips as he looked up at me; my nipples bullet hard and framed by the milky white softness of my breasts. I’d never been spanked before. Not even as a child. I was draped unflatteringly over his knee. I could feel my tummy against the coarse fabric of Steven’s jeans, the beige carpet mere inches from my face, my long brown hair still loosely tied in its ponytail. My bottom was raised and I could feel his fingers dreamily stroking me through the cotton fabric of my underwear. . I could sit it in his eyes.My eyes! Those always make a lasting impression. I took off my glasses to reveal my mesmerizing baby blues as I walk over to the bedside table to lay them down. After removing my heels I immediately step up onto the bed and straddle J's face in a standing position, still fully clothed.He makes a soft sound of approval as I lower myself half way down so he can smell my pussy and get a better view through my sheer black panties.As I held onto my headboard I did some. She probably thought of Cathy and me as bastard children, too, but I never met her.Cathy’s and my reactions were different from Mom’s. I think we felt betrayed, too, but on more than one occasion I thought that, under other circumstances, my father might have made a good Taliban. His political beliefs were rabid. He felt like women were inferior creatures and should be controlled by a man. He certainly acted like he owned Mom and Cathy. The fact that he based this on the Bible rather than the.