For me the times of the Pink Belly carried a particularly delicious ambiguity.I loved administering a good Pink Belly, but I also loved receiving one....Iloved the attention, the humiliation. I loved being stripped, held down andhurt. I was a very big and strong boy, larger by far than all my friends. Probablyat any time I could have broken away from my assailants and done some realdamage in self-defense. But I never did that. I always allowed myself to betaken and tormented. I had for years been. His tongue danced around my slit, licking all the way up and down around the edges, but never going inside.Throbbing heat flared up all around my crotch. He ground his face up against me, bringing me flying towards a climax. Then he stopped again. I cried out in disappointment and frustration as he backed off again and went back to the touch.I squirmed against the wall, humping my ass cheeks against the smooth plaster. Tears coursed down my face as I sobbed in woeful loss. In spite of the pain. Though I could see by the look on her face, she wasn’t as happy as she normally was, though she tried hiding it as she spoke to me. ‘Dinner will be ready in about an hour or so…I’m running just a little late,’ she added trying to smile. But I could see just in the way she was acting, something was up. I walked over to her, lifting her chin up, giving her a quick loving kiss, though I flicked my Bic, created the spark, and quickly accessed her recent thoughts. She and dad had had a silly fight,. Her body – not yet entirely recovered – uncontrollably thrashed around from the movements. Her eyes were still half closed, her mind still absented in the depths of her orgasm. All that came out of her throat was an incomprehensible gargling. She slowly came back from her highs. The sounds coming from her throat started to sound like moans again, and her hands found their way around Ben’s neck; first softly gripping, then harder. “Oh fuck Ben! This was the hardest I’ve come in my life!” were.
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