I knew which whip he had chosen after the first hit; the most painful one, the one he never used on my soft pretty skin because he said it would hurt ...oo much. It wasn’t until the fourth crack of the whip that I began to cry. I was crying not only because it hurt more than anything, but also because he chose this whip because he knew very well that it was going to hurt bad. Silent tears were rolling down my cheeks; I would not give him the satisfaction of hearing my cries. After a bit I started. I felt no hymen. As Julia succumbed to her arousal, Dom gave his rod a few final strokes, and the sperm shot out of it in five pulses, arcing three feet into the air, landing on the hardwood floor between us. As he spurted, Julia held her breath. Then Dom groaned, and we all relaxed.I found myself needing to relieve my own horniness, so I pushed Julia off me, rose, and lay on my back on the soft rug in front of the fireplace. I strummed my own clit wildly as I writhed, lifting my ass completely. More

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