On the first shot, I had hit the exact, precise hairbrush that had sat on my dressing table, threatening me every day of my life, until it was broken ...n half when I was twelve or thirteen. It was the hairbrush that my mother had routinely used to spank me when I was growing up.It was impossible. Somehow, that - thing - had been out there, waiting for me for what? Eleven, maybe twelve years? And it was just as powerful, just as terrifying as ever.Usually, I saw it in my mother's hand as she held. All the while I increase the pace of my tongue - licking around the moisture that soaks out around the base of the vibrator.I wriggle my cock into her mouth as deeply as I can, while sharply angling the vibrator up against her G Spot and boosting it to maximum power with the thumb control. Her cries are rousingly muffled as I speed up my penetration at both ends. I can feel myself losing control as the compulsion of orgasm starts to overpower me.Quickly I pull out my cock and drop back to my. More

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