The following morning, as much as his mind kept willing him to do so, he didn't have the guts to try it on again. Instead he sat at the table opposite...where Helen was stood at the sink so he could get a perfect view of that coveted sexy arse of hers. This particular morning she was wearing a grey, pinstriped, pencil skirt and as Helen washed the plates and cups, her arse wiggled back and forth acting like a red flag to her son. Soon he was beginning to regret not having tried it on again and. If it could be called a punch. I took it like a man on the jaw, and barely cocked my head from the force of his puny pugilism. Then I showed him what a punch really is. The sound of my meaty fist bruising bone and muscle sounded louder than the techno beats and sent him with a *BOOM* to the floor. I shook my hand once for good measure, and curled back onto my sofa. There was some s**ttered applause. Rachel sat back down on my leg, the right this time, her soft ass resting just below my cock. More

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