"It was Maria."Charlize Jones?" I asked."Half Charlize Theron, half Catherine Zeta Jones," Mariaexplained."How many women do you know named "Charlize?" I asked her."Wait a few years," she said, "their number will go up. There are probably millions of five-year-olds already."I wasn't much for telephone conversations. Not even romantic ones.Maria was, though."What are you wearing?" she asked, a smile in her voice."What am I wearing? --Is this an obscene phone call?" Could be," she said. "You want to know what I'm wearing?" I know you're going to tell me," I said."I'm wearing a blue polka-dot dress with a white collar," she said. "And white shoes, with ankle straps." Oh. OK." I had expected her to tell me she was wearing Chanel Number 5, or perhaps some other, updated variation on the old Marilyn Monroe tease-line."But -- you're not wearing any underwear, right?" I said."What? Well, of course I'm wearing underwear!" Oh. So -- why did you bring this up?" I asked."I didn't bring it up. I. His big cock started moving in and out. Just a while ago I had enjoyed sucking on this monster, I had wanted more of it. But now... I just wanted this over.As if to answer my silent prayer, David withdrew. Ahhh... relief. A slap on my bottom. Ouch. "I always expect enthusiasm from you, slut. Do you understand? You will take my cock as if it's the best thing in the world. Any time. Any way. Understand?" I suppose I nodded.I was dragged further up onto the bed. At least this was better."You are going to learn this lesson, whore."Whish... crack! Yow! I guessed that was the riding crop on my poor bottom. Whish... crack, again. Yowwww.... I yelled. I tried to crawl away. But I was held down.By the fourth stroke I was just about jumping off the bed. I felt weight on my body. David was lying on me, preventing my movement. And still the copping continued. One buttock, then the other. Then across both. I was drooling uncontrollably into my gag. Blubbering. It stopped. Pure relief."Now, this is.
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