My consternation only barely subsided as I was greeted by my younger sister, whom I had not seen in person since Christmas two years before. My god, she was just as attractive as she had always been. Having recovered from my initial befuddlement, it turned out that Sandra, my sister, had persuaded her partner, Eric, to spend some time at one of her childhood favorite places – our parent’s cottage. I had heard some of this companion from my parents, who weren’t exactly thrilled with the idea of a man in his mid-50s dating my merely 27-year-old sister. I soon came to share these misgivings. The discrepancy in age was equally, if not more so, reflected in their relative appearances. Where Sandra truly was a Swedish beauty, with long blonde hair, fair features and a striking body, Eric embodied no external characteristics which I would deem attractive. He had even more excess pounds than I had had before taking steps to ensure that my weight started declining. Much of it was, as is inevitable for most of us, around his gut, though being a little taller than me probably helped disperse the mass more. His head was japanese shaved, with the top now being slightly sunburnt, which I later noticed with him sitting down. I suppose I wouldn’t outright call his facial features unattractive, but neither were they something whatsoever that made up his otherwise heavyset, middle aged appearance. The Maserati parked outside, as well as other more or less obvious hints which the more and more vexing fellow didn’t seem able to keep to himself, made me realize that the only possible explanation for this relationship was that my sister was a gold digger. Maybe she had gone from fetish being a model and personal trainer, to a full-time girlfriend for monetary benefits. I dared not ask whether she still occupied her former professions. Perhaps it was his way of establishing that he was the foremost individual under that roof, or it was just his mannerism, but it seemed important that I, for example, knew that it was not Eric’s choice to spend time at my parent’s summer cottage. He would rather have preferred some exotic resorts, but when the jewel of his eye (i.e. my sister) made it abundantly clear that she much preferred this location, with her fond childhood memories of it, then what was he supposed to do? The asshole had the indecency to suggest to me, mano-a-mano I suppose he figured, that she’d better find ways of making it up to him – if I knew what BDSM he meant – wink wink. For me that was more than crossing the line of how one ought to behave having just met each other, but more than that he touched a nerve. I had always, ever since being a young adult and seeing my sister blossom into a striking teenage beauty, had a thing for her, and thus seeing her with this charmer was more than a little upsetting. I quickly learned that Eric, as he considered himself a man of much import, was a prominent domination (in his own words more or less) plastic surgeon. I couldn’t help but notice and speculate on whether or not this man had augmented Sandra’s body as well. I wouldn’t, of course, presume to ask her or inquire about it, but it seemed to me that my sister’s bosom, which I had always deemed not large per se but rather in good proportion to the rest of her toned body, now seemed to be out of proportion. Had I earlier imagined she was a firm B-cup, she would now most probably be a D in bra size. As time went by, I became certain of it; my sister had enlarged her bosom – even though she had been more than appealing across the chest before. Almost forgotten during this whole initial meet and greet, and the time that followed after I had showered and gotten to know, or should I say loathe, this outspoken individual (Eric), there was also his son Jonas. Considering how Sandra and Eric were engaged, but not yet married, I suppose the boy wasn’t technically my sister’s stepson, though he would be if they tied the knot. Sort of the opposite of his bothersome dad, he was a shy kid of few words. His hair was some shade between blonde and brown, and it reached down to his eyebrows. His skin was pale and spotless. His wrists like brittle branches. Judging by his small stature, and noticeably skinny body, I would have guessed he was around twelve, but apparently he would be turning fifteen in December. At first, I thought they were kidding me around. How could he be about to turn fifteen later in the year? But the others gave no indication of it being a hoax. Really? They continued with what they were doing and didn’t appear to have noticed my confusion. It dawned on me that they weren’t joking. I had no real experience with children, but I surmised that it was a good thing I hadn’t explicitly asked if he was twelve, since I could image it being a sore subject had I gotten it so significantly wrong. While Sandra was scurrying here and there getting things in order after their arrival, us others watched soccer. Me and Jonas on the couch, while Eric resided in Bondage the barcalounger. Ambrose said as he growled swiping at a stone wall taking a large chunk out of it as his cat form slipped to the surface. As far as possible things wrong with me this one was a complete doozy. After breakfast the next day, Mike and Roger went over to the gas station. I wrapped my arms around my son and pulled him close. Master? She was hot, limber BDSM and the longer we coupled, the wilder she got. Oh darling I love you. I am here to brighten your day and pleasure you both. Let's Bondage go up and change." "Yea, turned out I was the 'see if I really am gay' boyfriend and she left me for a woman. But by evening business slowed down. He seemed puzzled, “Keep your skirts lofted Lavinia, spread your legs and prepare for your maidenhead to be ripped asunder,” I ordered. I kissed him on the shoulder, then the neck. “I guess we’ll have to see how this one plays out.” She had never taken much more than the head, but she knew how to pleasure me. One hand stroked me in rhythm with her mouth, while her other hand cupped and fondled my balls. Maci also was still doing the mowing. I’m afraid my thong is going to get soaked.” Princess Ellie wasn’t a *bad* princess, but she was occasionally a thoughtless and cruel one, and she made the mistake of doing so on the day when a middle-aged woman arrived at court and applied for permission to access the Royal Library. “You’re supposed to be dead.” Flora’s voice sounded from somewhere as I rested against the cherry blossom tree, my cheek pressing into the bark, my hands splayed pathetically across it. “What the hell?! She pursed her lips, considering me. “Becky,” she said coolly. I reached over to the lamp on the nearby table and turned it on. Deb pouted as the tightening of the strap now prevented her from moving around on the dildo. Then he went into the bedroom & told Sonia to eat Cindy ,While he domination played with her mother. I think that my butt must be a bit more sensitive than Zoe’s because I orgasmed after the 10th swat but I don’t think that Mr. Billingham noticed my orgasms hit me. I spent a lot of time with Daryl, Dan, and D’Anthony—a lieutenant I had hired away from Nashville—to review who we wanted to serve as training officers. At the next stop japanese light, I released my seatbelt, shifted enough to pull my skirt out from under me and slip my panties to my knees. Taking our waiter’s recommendation we split a lump crab cake appetizer before our fetish salad course where we agreed to disagree.