But I could sure hear her. "Oh yeah. Oh shit, yeah. Do your job. Do your job. Keep your tongue in there. Do it, boy. " I felt her stiffen, then shake....Then stop. After a few minutes, she leaned forward and looked down at me. She began standing up and I got the relief of putting my tongue back in my mouth. Pussy juice and cream were everywhere. On my face, in my hair. And between her legs. "Looks like you are backing up," she giggled. "You've got more to do now than when you started." She walked. If only my husband was here, I thought. A nice shag to complement the arousal of the waves would be perfect! I put that thought aside, and climbed out to my blanket and started in on my book – a trashy romance just perfect for light summertime reading. I had finished off my first bottle of daiquiri and drifted off into a light stupor, caressed by the warmth of the sun and lulled to sleep by the waves and the alcohol. Something awoke me, and I slowly remembered with absolute rapture where I was.. It was moments like these that brought me back, with a knowing smile on my lips when he opened his front door, 'I need you to run around Mariel', he would say, 'But first, let me count your hairs', he would continue, and as I undressed I would watch him swell-up, and in return would yearn for him to take it out and let me see him grow.Of course his requests were always coded, as 'Running Around', really meant getting naked and then running around, likewise, 'Counting my hairs' meant performing. It made a loud striking sound. Tushar vibrated in pain. “I think this is enough to make you learn, isn’t it babe?” I was playing with his mind.“I deserve more, Mistress.” Tushar was heading exactly where I wanted him to. I brought it hard again on his ass. “I couldn’t hear you?” I shouted.“More” Tushar shouted in with the same pitch. I brought the cane again on his ass with him saying it loud again. I stopped at the fifteenth stroke on his ass. I yelled at him again, “Is this enough?”. He had.
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