She had a frown on her face and slowlyshook her head.I was not sure what I had done to create this look of displeasure on herface, but the thought I m...ight have disappointed her, was somehowextremely troubling."Did I do something wrong"? I asked with a bit of a tremble in my voice.My emotions always seemed so near the surface, and always threatened tooverwhelm me."Your basic technique is fine," she said."How ever, when you draw the female form, it has no life, no emotion. Doyou wish to learn how. “Relax,” he directed, “Push out a little, like you’re trying to poop; your hole will open...that’s it…that’s it,” he encouraged as my ass slowly stretched to accommodate him. He held his cock in place with his fist and pushed harder. It really burned so I rose up on my elbows and rocked forward to get away. He slapped my ass; hard. “You push that ass back here boy, and don’t you fucking try that shit again!” I gritted my teeth and did as instructed. Then it happened; the entire head of his big. Penis (it's not really a 'cock'), so your opinion of black guys versus white guys doesn't insult me in the least. In fact," I said, and paused before completing the sentence, "I believe that black guys are much superior, sexually, to nearly all white guys, and certainly more superior, sexually, to ME!" I gave a chuckle, and Tara followed suit."But I do really like you, Robert," Tara hurried to add. "I really do. Your very sweet. Intelligent. Kind. And that counts for a lot, I think!" She kissed. Joan Simmons began lather her body with the soap and let her mind wander, for some reason her youngest son came into the mind and she found herself wondering if he had started masturbating yet. This very idea both shocked and excited her, she knew that Robert was a noisy masturbator as she often heard him grunting his way to his orgasm as she passed his bedroom door but so far she was unsure about her younger son James. She was well aware it was not the usual thing from mother to concentrate on.