If not, I would just be a wild bitch. My boys needed to seize their academic futures with both hands and show their teacher who was the master here. I clipped the leash to my collar. Then I knelt before my boys. All of them were staring at me with such hunger. I held up the end of the black, leather leash, wagging it back and forth. “If you get the question right, you get to hold the leash. Then you can do whatever you like to me.” “Holy fucking shit,” groaned romantic Rich, his big nose quivering. “This is amazing,” panted Kenneth. “You're the best, Mom.” “It's Mrs. Taylor,” I said. “Now, what year did Napoleon invade Russia.?” “1812!” Kenneth shouted a fraction of a second before the other boys yelled out the answer. I was so glad it was my son who got it right. I thrust out the leash towards him and said, “I'm yours. I'm yours until you cum. Then the next boy gets to answer a question.” “Holy shit,” he said, grabbing my leash babe in a trembling hand. He stood up, his cock tenting the front of his jeans. “Until I cum?” “Yeah,” I purred. “You can use erotic my mouth or my pussy or my asshole.” “Kenneth!” my daughter shouted. My son's twin sister bolted to her feet. “You can't fuck our mom.” “She's Mrs. Taylor right now,” he said as he couple unsnapped his jeans, keeping my leash gripped in his right hand as he worked his fly open. His zipper rasped. oral “I'm just taking my reward for getting the question right. That's all. “Are you saying my kitchen chairs are not comfortable. She made a little cup out of her hand babe and prevented it from falling on the floor, pulling on his shaft and milking his balls for romantic every drop. Aunt Lucilla gave me a look of the utmost depravity; her sapphire irises topping the whites of her eyes, her open mouth drooling hungrily as her tongue tasted my tender, pink circle. She was scared. “Quick, quick Karen, please get me covered. I thought you trusted me more than that.” She wasn’t near her lockers at all. “Oh,” Josie pouted her lips, “I forgot it in my car. I felt like a filthy whore, but I was enjoying that feeling. If the driver was a woman my husband was to answer the door, if it was a man I was to answer the door. “Oh yes you erotic did.” When gay or bisexual guys emulate the mannerisms of the fairer sex, is it cultural appropriation? The dildo couple slid in further, another inch down her oral throat. Then he got another idea. Soon enough, I reached my climax once more.