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Told her” spread your legs widest” and with my hand helped her to raise her hind higher, she grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it — damn, she knew what to expect and was getting all ready for it!!!! It’s just great, what more a man wants then a very willing slut to do to her anyway you want. Her ass cheeks were fully parted and the ass hole was fully exposed and ready to be taken, moved my left hand under her belly and took cock in my right hand and placed the tip on the opening. With one hard and short thrust buried the head completely in her tight rectum, she shrieked and jerked her ass as to move away from me but with my hand under her belly hold her tightly and didn’t allow her to move. Said “dear it’s pains initially bear it and it will get lesser and lesser , try to relax your body” and with that started to caress her thighs and ass to soothe her – Waited for more than two minute as she got accustomed to this intrusion and her whimpering to died away.Still holding her. The one event that traumatically changed her attitude was when she happened to witness her mom in that very same "on her knees" position being taken roughly from the rear by the next-door neighbor with an obsession for diddling females in the midst of their housekeeping duties. His name was Roscoe Brown and he was a tall, good-looking black man with a Devilish goatee that made him look like some huge imp from Hell.Roscoe was actually a rather placid personality but he harbored his fetish for submissive homemakers inside his passionate breast like a venomous snake waiting to strike with determined intent.Joanne's mom was not a very attractive woman from her point of view, but she had to admit her mother had a shapely backside that attracted attention whenever they went shopping or to church on Sunday. When she was in the kneeling position with her buttocks up high, Joanne could easily see how a normal male animal would be inspired to test the elasticity of her mom's tight sphincter.
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She just lay there, feeling warm and very much alive, as Gustavo finished his washing, wrapped his young body in a towel and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. Isabella retreated to her room and lay on the bed, just as she was doing now, fifteen years later as a grown woman. She now knew exactly what had been going on and smiled, but in those days her mind was racing. She was confused and aroused. Even now, the memory of that first afternoon spying on Gustavo gave Isabella a tingling in her sex. She wondered whether she had the energy to enjoy the special piece of scrimshaw she kept in her underwear drawer. Its eight inches of intricately carved and polished whale ivory had been her faithful companion through many a lonely evening since she was nineteen. The memory of Gustavo masturbating in the bathroom was a frequent prelude to an hour’s pleasure with her horn of joy. By the time she witnessed Gustavo’s self-pleasure in the bathroom, Isabella had been well aware of her own body.

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