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I’ll be fine.” he answered.“Rubbish!” I told him. “You’re soaked through to the skin. I can’t have you going home like this. Follow me. I’ll show you where the shower is and I’m sure I’ll be able to find something of Mike’s to fit you.”I looked towards hubby as if seeking approval. His nod towards me was confirmation he was happy enough to agree Wade needed to get out of his wet clothes.Wade followed me up the stairs and along to the shower where I left him in no doubt what he needed to do.“Now get yourself out of those wet clothes and into the shower while I go find something suitable for you to wear.” I ordered.He offered little argument and as he disappeared into the shower I turned and made my way towards our bedroom to begin searching through hubbys wardrobe where, as crazy as it might sound, just looking for something suitable for Wade to wear was getting me incredibly horny.Five minutes later, I’d selected a crisp white shirt, a pair of Blue jeans and a pair of white cotton. It was easy, exactly because of that; I knew that with a girl in this situation I would have been scared out of my wits, with mom it was all just natural instincts and feelings.Mom instructed and guided me with her experience and maternal instinct, softly whispering along the lines of: "Deep and hard, yes, just like that. Long thrusts, all the way. You can go faster, but take it easy, don't rush it; we have all the time in the world. Just follow the rhythm of my hips, pumpkin. Yes, yes".The way mom's hips moved taught me all about the magic that was love, and I learned easily and well, following their motions."Hmm-Yes. Like that. Good," mom commented, as natural instincts totally took over. Mom's large breasts were so soft and heavy they didn't stay still under the force of my thrusts, and the motion was captivating to me as I repeatedly drove myself towards heaven.I lasted surprisingly long, thanks again to mom's help, but finally, the ache in my balls became unbearable and I.
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Luckily for me, it was again on my padded derriere, so the painwasn't as bad as when she'd whacked me across my bare legs earlier on. Iwas doing my best to keep up the speed of the rest of the prisoners, butthey had become accustomed to the correct method of shuffling along intheir ankle chains, whereas I was still getting used to it. I was alsohaving a lot of trouble with the leather punishment mask I had beenfitted with, which kept my tongue depressed and also kept my head rigidin front. Only one other prisoner was wearing such a device, and Iwondered what she'd done to warrant wearing the hideous thing. I knew whyI, or more correctly Barbara Schneider, had "won" herself 24 hours in it,because she'd boasted how clever she'd been by calling the giant guard"Madame Frankenstein" while traveling down on the prison truck. That 24hours meant nobody could see my face nor hear my male voice until she waswell clear of the island and out of their reaches.The six of us were chained together.

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