Hot Indian Aunty

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I look to the side of me and take along look at what used to be my man chair, remembering the last time Isat in the chair..."Oh, there's my little tart," my wife says sensually when she walked inthe room and saw me relaxing in my chair during one of our fantasyweekends. Oh my god she looks so fucking hot, so fucking dominant in justher regular street clothes...a t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of boots . Awicked crop held effortlessly in her hand making me crazy with fear andlust.In a mixture of sensuality and playfulness she struts over to me andsays, "Look at you in your sexy little lingerie and heels sitting in theman chair. I bought that chair for the man of the house, not the tart ofthe house." as she seductively runs her fingers around my lips. She holdsher finger in front of my eyes, my wife's beautiful face with the mostseductive grin ever behind her finger. I look up at the hot-pink lipstickon her fingertip and get lost in the moment when I rest my gaze on herincredible grin. My. Not that she deserved it. Not that he was upset about her walking around the house in the nude. Not even for playing with herself. Because she wanted it and he knew how her body would respond to it.He stood for a few minutes and admired his slave stretched out against the door, waiting patiently, not knowing when the first blow would come. He lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed, thinking about where to place the first blow. On her tits? Dive right in and get it over with? Or maybe start on her thighs or belly and let her wonder when the blow would strike her tit for the first time. Instead he grabbed the “rake.” It was actually a kitchen tool used for holding onions for cutting. 10 or 12 sharp little spikes on a plastic handle. He started at her neck and ran the sharp tips along her skin, down across her chest to her right tit, over her nipple which caused her to try to curl up into herself. Then over her belly and across her clit and down her left leg to her ankle. He.
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"Camille smiled, and said, "It's OK, you can say 'black' if you want to. Neither Ed nor I are foolish about such matters, especially with someone who's obviously no fool himself. If you'd been the type to make a big deal about race, it would be a different matter, but you obviously aren't."Ed hadn't been idle, and when he handed Steve his cup of coffee, Steve thanked him absently. "You know, Camille," he said, "it didn't occur to me until you said it, but you're right. Before it happened, I liked to think of myself as enlightened, but race was something I was always aware of, even while I tried not to let it matter. But now, with what's happened, I don't even think of it. If I'd known you, I'd probably have just said 'black, ' but there was that residue of doubt, and that made me avoid the word."Ed looked at Camille, and said, "Not to make too big a deal of it, but we're certainly not offended by an attempt not to offend, since it was out of respect, and not condescension. Just relax.

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