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Aunty blushed again and said, you naughty boy. All the while I was rubbing my hard cock against her ass. The feeling was great. Then all of a sudden I clutched both of her breasts with my both hands and said, aunty, I was dying to hold these in my hands. They are soo soft. I want to play with them aunty. Aunty moaned and said, then what makes you stop, go for it, they are yours. I fondled her big soft breasts on her saree pallu itself, pressed them, mauled them, crushed them, and what not. I enjoyed her breasts in every way possible. Aunty was going on moaning sexily, her sexy moans were arousing me all the more. Then I turned her around, and looked at her face. She was breathing heavily. Without further delay, I just locked her lips with mine, and went on tasting her delicious lips for minutes and minutes. My hands were fondling her body everywhere through her saree. I was massaging her half naked belly, it was soo much fleshy and good. She was going on moaning and breathing. While bent over, uncomfortable, dead and silent and corseted and plugged, the heels hurting him, he had been whipped. Sometimes repeatedly, occasionally random. Sometimes, just as he was beginning to fade to rest, eyes taped shut, but now, eyes closing to REM, just to wake him. Just for sport. He knew not who did it. His ears were muffled by the latex, but he could suppose. He suspected that it was babysissy who was spanking him, pushing his plug deeper. He knew the others of his clan probably participated in the beginning, when the whipping has been painful and constant. They had to. But they would have gone to sleep with their sissy lovers. But babysissy was alone and had nothing better to do. During the night, about midway through the never-ending night, he had gotten a cramp in his calf. He had gotten those before, occasionally, and to fix the knot in the muscle, he had always immediately jumped out of bed and stretched the muscle, leaning forward, rocking it. Bent over like.
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