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We all lifted our heads when we heard the truck pulling up to the house. It didn't have a muffler, or more likely it had a big rusty hole in the one it had, so it growled and sputtered until whoever was driving shut it off. The boys were outside quickly and I followed them into the drizzling rain, stepping onto the cold gravel and combing my fingers through my long black hair just to get it out of my face. I sat down on the narrow strip of grass that grew alongside the house, sheltered somewhat from the rain, but not minding it either. We'd enjoyed a long hot summer and this was the first visitor we'd had in over a month, probably two, since all I had to keep track of time was my cycle and the moon's.A thin man stepped out of the truck, old and stiff and red as a sunset. A real Native American, dressed in Levi's and a button down western shirt of blue and yellow. He had a wide brimmed hat, dust colored with some dark eagle feathers stuck in the leather band, two of them sticking up. She peeled the tights down and pulled her sticky panties clear of her fully aroused and dripping mature cunt; the scent of which flooded the room, she had not been this excited in years. She pulled the leash tight with one hand and thought of her discipline and humiliation of Gordon as she nursed her hot and juicy cunt with the other; her whole body tingled down to her toes in the sensible shoes as she indulged in a glorious masturbation session. The spark of dominance had been awoken in her; she moaned in utter ecstasy as her hand went white with the tension of the leather leash; she would wear black tights, or maybe stockings next time, and she would buy new shoes which she would hide from her staid husband; she had noticed that some of the other ladies had spiced their appearance for the walk in the park. She raised her mature legs high and moaned again as she thought of the cane striking those deliciously exposed balls. If only there was a way the Eastern girl would let her.
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