My name is Amanda. I'm now 20 year old. I'm five foot five, 124 pounds, with dark brown hair, brown eyes and 32a chest. I've been told my best feature is my ass, along with my full, sensual lips and dark eyes with long lashes. I've had submissive feelings for as long as I can remember. When I was 18 I met an online Master. At that time I lived in in Arizona with my dad. My Master lived very far away, and our relationship originally consisted of online play.
Sandra shook her head and sighed as she listened to her daughter talking to her boyfriend in the next room.
"You have got to be kidding me, right?"
"C'mon Jen, it'll be fun. Ron and Angela and Wendy and Greg will be there."
"A stupid protest? Please."
"We could end up on T.V."
It had been a good 18 months following the death of my wife when I finally decided to place our house on the market; for being a large 4 bedroom property with over 12 acres of ground it was far to large for me to manage on my own. During our marriage the wife and I split the chores, she looked after the inside and I looked after the exterior and gardens, it was a system which worked very well until my wife became ill, from then on it was a struggle to maintain the standards we had set ourselves.
I can't tell you what finally made me do it. I'd been thinking about it for weeks. At first it was just a wild fantasy, but as time went on, the fantasy turned into possibility, and from there into a plan. I knew my opportunity was going to be during Spring Break, but for the first several days I was stuck--just couldn't make a decision. It was all I could think about and I wasn't getting a lick of work done, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to do anything. Finally, something had to give.
For 16 years we have lived in the same house in a wonderful suburb where all the local people are very friendly. Most of us moved into the area about the same time as it was a new housing development. We got on very well with the lovely couple next door and their young children were born about the same times as ours. They had a boy and a girl and we had a girl first and then a boy.
Wedding time. Not Dan's, of course, but that of Marc Chapman's sister, Belinda. Dan and Marc had gone to college together, and he had gotten to know the Chapman family well during the summer months. Though Dan and Marc did not know each other in high school, they did grow up in nearby towns; as such, they saw each other frequently when they were home from school.
Ed Friar wasn't surprised to discover his son Nicholas waiting outside the front door of his flat when he got home from work -- Nick had arranged weeks before to stay that night, as he was going to a party near where his father lived -- and nor was he surprised to find that Nicholas had a girl with him -- Nick had said something about that in advance, too. What left Ed bemused was that the first thing he saw of either of the two visitors was the girl's nearly naked bottom.
I lay in the bathtub, watching steam rise from the warm water. I should have felt relaxed, but I did not. I waited apprehensively. Nothing could calm my nerves. Not the dozen candles that lit the bathroom. Not even the New Age CD that filled the room with the comforting sound of the ocean washing against the shore.
I walked down the hill on the west side Wisconsin Avenue in Georgetown, crossing the C and O canal, and stopped outside the window of a small women's boutique. The window displays indicated a variety of fine clothing and accessory items, immaculately arranged and appointed, so I entered. A small bell attached to the door jingled, announcing a visitor.
Several pictures of her were tucked into the sides of the mirror over his dresser. Most were school pictures, and one was of the two of them together, their arms wrapped around each other, both of them smiling at the camera. My hand, holding the brush that I had picked up from amidst the clutter on his dresser, stopped in mid-air as I peered at those pictures.