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I gripped the bottom of the shaft with my right hand, and I was doubly surprised at my girth and how perfectly natural it felt to hold it thus.I was slowly starting to stroke, wondering if my jizz could pierce the sheet like a sniper bullet through Kevlar, when Stacy noisily arrived with my breakfast in bed.As was the plan, she remained gloriously naked and indifferent about being so. “Dad! Dad! Something awful happened,” she said, bringing the tray that held my bacon and eggs as well as my paper.Aw fuck. Already. What story to tell? I wondered to myself. “What’s up?” I asked aloud.“You know Anita Everett?”“I don’t know. Has she ever been over here?” I asked, fearing the worst again.Stacy frowned. Adorable.“Don’t think so,” she shrugged. Did her little boobies just jiggle? “She was more of a runner than a dancer. But she is a cheerleader, so she might have at one time.”Is a cheerleader?“What did you say happened to her?” I squeezed harder on my erection. Swear to god, this was. I paused again. My hand was beginning to sting and burn too. I wiped my fingers on the fabric of my miniskirt for a moment before reaching over to the kitchen table and taking an old wooden hairbrush out of my purse.Elizabeth raised herself up on her fingertips, twisting backward to see what I was doing. Her eyes widened as I raised the brush over my head. Crack… “Ow!” she yelped, biting down on her lower lip. Crack…Whack… Snap… Slap…”Oh, God!” she whispered, burying her face under the chair. Her hair billowed and snapped up with each slap. Crack… Crack… Crack…. I spanked her quickly, deliberately. She jumped each time the brush slapped against her tender skin. Elizabeth was wriggling her bottom and kicking her legs. I had to stop and renew my grip on her waist to keep her from sliding off my lapHer feet were flailing and she was whimpering and crying. SLAP… SLAP… SLAP… I increased the strength of the spanks causing her to howl and thrash her legs. I raised my arm over my head and.
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