The third set of six strokes were duly delivered. I was screaming, and there in front of me was Miss Dean masturbating. I could smell her juices. Agai... a short break before the final set of six. At least I knew what was coming. I knew the intensity of pain I had to endure. Finally, the twenty-fourth stroke hit home, just as hard as the first stroke. I flopped down on the bench, breathing heavily. My bottom was on fire. Thank goodness it was over. Then, horror! Miss Dean moved the chair right up. I gently but forcefully dug my nails into her back, even as she arched backwards. I slammed into her one last time and she began to shake as I blew my essence deep within her womanhood. The force of my orgasm enough to send her over the edge into her second one. I didn’t even try to stop the moan escaping my lips, because it timed perfectly with hers. When it was over, and we had both ridden the waves of orgasm to a wonderful climax, we again locked eyes, grinning from ear to ear. We knew. More

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