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Does he think I can't feel it between the crack of my ass? I looked down at my legs. My dress had rose up a little more. I could almost see my panties... My son's hands was on the seat on each side of me. I wondered if he could see how high my dress had ridden up. I realized I like the idea of my dress being up so high. It gave me a little thrill knowing I could give my son a hard on. We only been on the road for about an hour. There was still four hours to go. I knew my husband couldn't see how. I am not sure why I bothered though, Graham put on scruffy shorts and a couple of vest t-shirts to guard against the slight chill in the air, and really made no effort at all for our last night. Suddenly I no longer regretted what had happened earlier, well maybe the unfaithfulness I regretted hugely but not the orgasm I experienced. My mind was full of such contradictions.Dinner was as strained as usual, we couldn’t go to an upmarket restaurant because of what Graham was wearing and Graham was. Crying in shame, wishing she was dead, she realized that she would have to beg for his prick. He had just come once, so he could keep teasing her for a very long time. She had to stop him now."Fuck me," she whispered, her voice catching with her sobs. "Tom, please fuck me." What did you say?" Tom smirked, lifting his head from her tits to lick and kiss her delicate throat. "Did the cold little bitch ask me to fuck her?" Yes!" Donna cried. Her willpower, her spirit, was broken. This torture had. I knew it was in my interests to draw attention, to make myself desirable, to be the kind of girl that a man might order to her knees before him, or might drag off to a private room, there to put her through her paces. And knowing that to be my station, I could not help myself from truly wanting to be found desirable, to be put on my back and used like the slave I was, to be allowed to cry out my submission in the arms of a master.That first night, though, no man saw fit to spend the additional.
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