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Twelve. Pamela realised she had been counting. Twelve times he had masterfully wielded that belt. She shivered again.The Minister stepped back, as if examining his handiwork. His hands softly stroked Nasear's trembling bottom, in an almost loving caress. Pamela almost wished it was her own bottom being so lovingly caressed. Her own bottom cheeks tingled.He turned and called out to the house. A servant rushed out, running across the lawn. He handed an ointment to The Minister who squeezed the sweet smelling contents into his large palms before turning to Nasear. With swift gentle strokes he oiled and palmed Nasear's softly curved bottom. Pamela found a sudden rush of moisture in her loins. She could not imagine her father doing this after any punishment! Her cheeks flushed pink as with a sudden thrust, an oiled finger slid inside Nasear's bottom. Oh my God, thought Pamela.What is he doing?Nasear was wriggling on the smoothly working finger!Finally The Minister stepped back reaching for. So we got up and got dressed, Chrissie told me that if we truly have to get dress we can but we are not allowed putting any kind of underwear. That didn’t bother me all that much, so I went downstairs but on my old muddy sneakers. I turned around and saw Chrissie coming down the stairs. She was wearing a lime green shirt and some blue denim jeans. We could clearly see her nipples through the thin shirt, and we could also se a slight camel toe where her pussy outta be. This was a side of Chrissie I never imaged seeing. Of course I had the occasional dream about her and me, but never anything like this. This time Chrissie did not tie her hair at all. I really liked it like that. So we got into the car and drove off. Half way there Chrissie told me to rub her pussy. With out any hesitation I did. I was massaging her fucking pussy like there was no tomorrow. She smiled at licked he lips, and bit her lower lips. She kept flexing her ass, she was enjoying this allot. When we got in to the.
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’ I wouldn’t at all argue with this. They were probably exactly correct. Other than my daughter and co-workers, I had no one to share the little joys and triumphs of my life with. I had found out some time before that Becky had finally divorced from Tony (his short NFL career was now over and was considered to be very much an utter failure) and she was living back at home with her mother. I didn’t see her on any of my very irregular visits home, but Olivia did go over to her grandmother’s house a few times to visit, and we did speak together a few times on the phone. She was doing ‘better’ and trying to get her life straight. She was back at the local Junior College and hoping to get a better job as a secretary or something in business after graduation in a year or two. I wished her well and offered her a little financial assistance if she would accept it, which she gratefully did. Our old times together were not discussed, and that seemed to leave a huge hole right in the center of.

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