Her tongue flicked out against my lips and they parted, to welcome her tongue into my mouth. My hands were busily squeezing her breasts as I futilely ...ried to figure out how to open her blouse without releasing those delightful globes.Though I was by no means an experienced swordsman, I had not been a virgin for a year. My cherry had been happily given to Inga, the school whore, to whom it was clearly no novelty. In one of those happy accidents, my Mom had caught me flogging my log and as a. The door swung open and my Dad came into the room witha black and white maid uniform, and his hair done intoa high bun on his head. He wouldn't let mecall him Dad, he just told me to call him Maria andnothing else, and that he was on the service of mymother that he called mistress.I survived the days, with the continuous lessons ongirlhood, on how to sit, run and dance, with theboring ballet lessons, that were really tedious withtheir fragile movements, their pink tights and theblack leotards.I. More

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