We sat and watched TV and I looked over to see she was shaking and nearly crying. I gave her a hug to comfort her and she laid her head on my shoulder and gave me an odd sort of look and told me I was a kind-hearted young man. My folks came home just about then and she jumped away from me, but stayed for tea and they walked her home and got her door open for her. Not long after, my Dad had a week's business trip to New York and took my Mom along. They asked Cheryl if she would keep an eye on me. The story starts few months after the first story. Peter was my mom’s favorite fucker till then. She would call him whenever the house was empty. Since he was a regular visitor (more of a family member) to my house and was my best friend no one suspected anything. Even we were unaware of it. I came to know of it when he told me years later.My dad till date doesn’t know anything about my mom’s debauchery. Dad fucked mom very rarely. Mom did not bother about it, as Peter took good care of her sex. ?You never learn, you stupid slut, calledme master.??I sorry master? I wailed.?Just remember next time. What bird is thefeather from??The cruel bastard really wanted to tickleme forever. Luckily he'd used this feather on me before. ?It's blackbird master.? ?Very good. Next one.?This device he used on my left nipple.Within moments of his ministrations my pink little nipple grew hard. It wasvery tickly and a little coarse.?It's a paintbrush, master.? ?What no. of paintbrush.?How the fuck was I. Stacie was standing near the curb. Behind her, a man and a woman were literally throwing clothing onto the sidewalk. Some of it landed in the street. As I stopped the car and got out, I heard the woman yelling. "Your pimp is here, you whore. Good. Get in his pimp car and get the fuck out of here. I never want to see your ass again, you whoring cunt!" She went into the apartment and slammed the door.Stacie saw me. She ran to me. I hugged her. Then I lifted her face to mine. I said, "Sweetheart,.
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