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‘Boo and I just came in to look around a bit, Mr. Morrison, if that is alright with you,’ I asked. Old Morey glanced behind my figure to see Boo nearly cowering there. Whether she did so out of fear or because she was still cold, I’ll never know. Mr. Morrison turned his attention to her, ‘G’day, Boo.’ ‘G’day, Mr. Morrison,’ Boo managed to squeak out. A timid mouse, which was Boo. ‘Come to take a look-see at my new comic books, have you, Henry boy?’ Boo shot me through with a killing glance that spoke louder than words before she drifted off to the back of the store where Mrs. Morrison could be found amid yards of ribbon and bolts of fabric. I turned my attention to the comic book shelf where I saw a few new volumes but before I could touch one, I heard a beckoning wisp of air from behind me. I turned around to see old Morey motioning to me with the crook of his finger. ‘Henry boy,’ Morey kept his voice low, ‘Ain’t your getting a tad old for comic books?’ I noticed a distinct ‘Old. First, he knew that he was to clean up his mess - with his tongue, licking the semen from my crack and swallowing every drop.“Secondly, and this is the truly wicked part, he knew that after he was done licking me clean, he would be bent over for another paddling. Coming so soon after his first paddling, and immediately after his orgasm, this paddling was exponentially more painful.“He would cry. He would beg. He would sob like a little boy. And, I would paddle harder and faster. After he’d been reduced to a pitiful state of sobbing and crying, I’d cease, pulling his tear-stained face between my thighs once again, eager to feel the slickness of his tears on my skin and the devoted worship of his tongue in my vulva.”While this woman spoke, I wondered how she knew. How she knew that I would approve of her story. I suddenly felt the tightness behind my zipper and realized that my erection was pressing against my fly, wanting to escape. Wanting attention. Wanting to be the cock in the.
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