I couldn’t make myself feel guilty and it was a secret that was going with me to my grave. I’d even dreamed about him a few times, vauge erotic im...ges that seemed to flow without rhyme or reason. I invariably woke up to wet panties.“I don’t care. Stay away. I don’t like his vibe.”“His vibe? The man is half a football field away and you can feel his vibe? It must be a guy thing because I’m not getting it.”He just grunted and stomped back into the house.The next week I walked down to the corner. Despite what I may have been thinking about being whipped, a deeper part of me was excited. Standing with a metal rod up my ass while Marty's fingers moved between my lips. While other fingers rubbed my spit over my hurting tits while pulling and pinching nipples that throbbed from being hit with the crop. I was wet and my pussy ached from more than just being hit with the crop. I needed to come. All this time while Marty's fingers were bringing me closer to orgasm again, his groin was rubbing. More

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