“On all fours!” he commanded and pushed me down. I complied. “Crawl!” he ordered again and, when I did so, the chair followed behind me. He went back and brought another belt, this time it was a thin and narrow one my wife likes to wear. Greg folded it and swiftly whipped my butt cheeks, then again a couple more times until I moaned with pain. “Shut up and keep pulling the chair!” he said, only this time tattoo he sat on it. I slowly pulled with all my might and the makeshift buggy started rolling again, my master brimming with joy like a Roman gladiator triumphantly riding his chariot around the Colosseum. I could feel the belt squeeze my balls, pulling them hard and with them pulling my hard cock down and between my thighs. He whipped me a few more times and each time the belt left rosy marks on my skin. “Please,” I managed to mumble, “enough…” Another whipping made me stop, only this time he aimed at my squished balls. He hit me hard twice, maybe three more times while I kept pulling the chair lingerie with him. No wonder my cock started drooling pre-cum juices leaving a shiny streak on the hardwood floor. Then suddenly, in spite of my tremendous effort, the chair was stuck. “Pull!” he shouted again whipping my ass. As he was sitting facing my stretched balls, he raised his legs handjob and rested his feet on my butt cheeks. I felt his push adding more tension to the two belts that linked my balls to the chair. “Pull!” he shouted again and whipped my back. I moaned with pain when I managed to pull my master again and realized the wheels of the chair were now on the carpet making it difficult to roll like before, like a car stuck in mud. I did my best and pulled my chariot until we reached the hardwood floor again. Only this time, my master was pushing hard my buttocks with his feet. By doing so, he must have noticed my mature asshole was not utilized as it deserved and ordered me to take him to the teen bathroom. We reached our destination through another round of carpet-covered floors. Rohit immediately opened it. “You’re a handjob tattoo dork?” "Oh, just heating it quickly to kill the germs" he replied. You smile at me, clear your throat and begin lingerie to speak, "Baby, can I talk to you for a little while?" "Nope," she replied, "Do you think we should get some?" I hadn't bonded to it. In a trice he was rigid again, “On the table legs astride!” I commanded and in a flurry of skirts she bounded onto the table like a woman half her age and mature held her cunt lips open to receive me. I gazed at her, no longer even slightly embarrassed by her behaviour; I felt only love and admiration, enow to Shout it at her, project it as through will. He climbs up the bed and spoons me. I can tell he’s shirtless now and only teen wearing his tight, tight boxer briefs. Yeah. She finally took a deep breath, sat up, emptied her wineglass, and turned to me. Noticing she didn't oblige I got a little bolder.