Indian Sex Therapist

He knew what to expect. Strong hands gripped his waist as his pants slid down to his ankles. He pulled his shirt off and flung it on the ground."Make me your bitch!" he gasped.The blue uniform behind him snickered and pounded hard, his balls slapping his ass with every stroke. If Erin knew pissing behind a tree in the park would result in this, he would have done it sooner."Thought I couldn't see you in the dark, you little bitch?" the voice asked. "No one pisses in my park!" I'm sorry! I've been so bad!"His cock dribbled pre-cum onto his feet, wedged against the back of the park bench. A huge rough hand slapped his tight ass. Footsteps crunched and a pair of boots appeared before his eyes. Blue trousers fell down around them a fat cock tumbled in front of his face.Mouth opened and cock filled it. He gagged and drooled. Tears streaked his face. An 8-inch shaft filled each hole, slipping down throat and up rectum, trying to touch in the middle. The sweat of a 12-hour shift filled his. "She told everyone how fast you were! Thesepretty baby mittens will help slow you down a bit, baby girl."Mistress Lisa buckled the second mitten around the embarrassed boy'sslender left wrist and David discovered the slippery satin mittens hadcotton gloves inside, the palms and fingers glued to a stiff plasticpiece bigger than his spread fingers, and filled with dense stuffingto make his trapped fingers almost useless. He couldn't close hisfingers to grasp anything, and he was thrilled to feel more like ahelpless little baby.He perched on the end of bed and watched the tall buxom blonde loosenand slip out of her boned leather corset. Despite being a few kilosoverweight, Lisa still had an amazing wasp-waist (from years ofcorset-training, he'd later learn.) Her full round D-cup breastssagged and swayed under their own weight, her russet areolae the sizeof half-dollars. He could see a faint tracery of fine blue veinsthrough her alabaster skin, either side of her nipples. Those.
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