. do..(smack).. it..(smack)...” There was no malice in his voice only longing; and although, each smack was hard I couldn’t help but moan. It felt...so good. “Yes, Jon,” I moaned out. “I promise it won’t happen again.” With a few more smacks he turned me around and leaned me back against the car. He slid his hand down and over my breast, down my stomach and straight to my vagina. ”Whose pussy is this?” he asked sliding a finger in. I moaned but couldn’t answer. It was my first time feeling this. It wasn't bad, actually, because things did go more quickly.But her little comments to me didn't change. She had been calling me "jerkoff" for so long that I think it was just ingrained in her brain, and she kept doing that. Except when Gramps was around. Now that I look back on it, I realize she was thinking about it, because she could control it when Gramps might hear her.But it was a source of friction. I never had a nickname for her for some reason. Don't ask me why. But when she pretended. More

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