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Silently, without her even glancing my way, the corners of her mouth raised in a coquettish smile. Equally silently, my cock leaped to attention, draw...ng all of the available blood from my brain. The Anvil Chorus was replaced by the exploding, booming cannons of the 1812 Overture, that masterpiece by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky celebrating Russia's victory over the invading French. I leave it to you to guess in what year that took place. Yet after years of fantasy, months of planning, days and. I resentfully released my grip on the wooden bars andflopped backwards onto my heavily padded rear, my plastic panties makinga noisy 'whoomph' when the trapped air suddenly gushed out around thetight elastic waistband. "That's a good girl." Brenda leaned over thewooden top rail and thrust the clear silicon teat into my mouth, and cooljuice squirted down my throat. I sat there few a few seconds staring upat her massive bosoms as they swayed enticingly a few inches from mynose, sucking on the. More

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