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As he reached the bottom of the porch steps he looked toward the oncoming car with intense anticipation. Jeff's smile quickly turned to a glare when he realized there were two cars instead of only the one he had expected. He stood at the bottom of the porch steps as Martha and Joe's white sedan stopped in front of him and a dust covered black van stopped on the other side of their car. Jeff could tell through the lightly tinted glass of the sedan's front window, that the occupants were not his Aunt and Uncle. Disappointed mature but curious as to what was going on, Jeff watched as the car's three hooded occupants along with the driver of the van, exited the vehicles and walked slowly toward him. Two of the figures were extremely large, the other two were smaller and all wore hooded cloaks. With the setting sun at their backs, it was impossible for Jeff to see the faces buried deep in the hoods, but he recognized the cut of the cloaks almost immediately. "What is it that you want?" Jeff addressed all four, not knowing which one of the group would be the allowed to speak. None of the hooded figures responded but continued to stare from unseen eyes somewhere deep within the darkness cumshot of their hoods. Jeff squinted his eyes against the low setting sun, in an effort to see a face or even a feature of any of the people inside the hoods. "What are you doing here and where is interracial your master?" Jeff spoke to the group again. From behind the two large figures came a smaller one, moving slowly towards Jeff, till it stood only a foot in front of him and looked up into his face. "Are you not happy to see me again, Slave?" A woman's voice spoke softly from inside the large dark hood. Jeff knew instantly the voice of the cloaked woman in front of him. He reached around the back of the woman's head and slowly pulled the hood, exposing the beautiful face and icy eyes of his last Master. Her hands reached up to her chest and slowly pulled the cloaks bow string. As if the robe was moving in slow motion, it spread open at her shoulders and caressed every curve of her body, on its downward path to her ankles. There it bunched around her lower legs forming a base at her feet, seemingly reluctant to be separated from the woman's perfect legs. She was dressed, if it could be called it that, in three very revealing, leather patches. Two small triangles covered her nipples, and a very small triangular patch doggystyle between her legs, all held in place with thin leather strings. Leather straps from her sandals crisis crossed themselves as they laced up the perfect thighs finally tied in small bows in front. "What do you want, Annette?" black Jeff spoke to her, seemingly unaffected by the extremely seductive form of the woman's body. With the mention of her actual name, Annette eyes lashed out as if to tortuously pierce the skull of the person that spoke them. Slowly her expression returned to normal and she laughed, tilting her head back slightly. "There is not a slave, still alive, who has ever called me anything but Master!" Annette spoke as though she was amused at the mention of her actual name by her former slave trainer. "I will tolerate your disrespect for old times sake, Trainer!" "I am no longer your Trainer. blowjob I was given my freedom. It was witnessed by the other masters. It can not be revoked by you or anyone else unless I agree to the reinstatement of my servitude." Jeff reminded Annette in a tone that reflected neither malice nor fear. "Love you too," I replied, feeling ever so slightly less homesick. John insisted. They then fetched her out and lifted her in having a good feel as they did blowjob so. The last thing I want to think about is my mom.” I was a bit disappointed when Jon pulled me out onto the street. As he marched down the doggystyle street, James allowed his mind to wander. I slid the wooden sliding doors open and peeked out just to make sure. Probably cumshot fell on the floor, discarded and forgotten. So just because you want chocolate, doesn’t mean you black can just eat it.” Stumbling on down the sidewalk at an uneven gait, I wondered what had happened to the left shoe. He brought her mature legs over shoulders and continued his assault. Doris interracial found her voice. Somehow his finger was working where his tongue had not. “And Jill agreed?” Sharon asked. She bucked.