It was our own little private ritual, he had his mug that read ?Old Fart? on the side and mine, read ?His? just a simple but yet subtle reminder that ... belonged to him and him only. I gratefully took the mug from him and sipped. A small appreciative moan rang forth from the gesture as much as the wonderful taste. I sat the mug down and felt myself begin to blush. ?What is it little one?? ?I know that after getting up so many times during the night that this is the last thing you probably want. ” He stated in a maddening calm tone, as I was twisting and twerking in his hands. Those words just made me freeze. “Good!” he grined. A burning feeling was rising over my ass, and my senses were slowly going numb. Sure he could see that, so he barely touched my asscheeks with the belt, then held it in the air, as I closed my eyes and held my breath, waiting for the damn hit. He hit the couch, a few inches near me, with such a strength that the material was almost ripped. I exhaled, but. More

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