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The pressure from their hands threw me forward where I fell face down on the bed. Grabbing me roughly by my hair, my husband again pulled me into a doggie style position and whispered menacingly into my ear to make sure that doesn't happen again. Next thing I knew, the men were taking turns cracking the ass cheek closest to them. One smack after the other, almost rhythmically, each lifting as the other struck down. I had tears streaming down my face. I had never been spanked so hard in my life. But my damn body was betraying me. I was so turned on by their spanking. I could feel my pussy juices flowing down my thighs. Noticing this, my husband stopped cracking my ass. I could hear some rustling around, but Master was still smacking my ass on his side. I felt my husband grasp my knees and pull my legs off the bed. I was now bent over it, chest pressed onto the mattress. I felt my extremely sore ass cheeks being spread and my husband's cock being rubbed against my pussy. I knew that. “Hey,” I said, doing my own stretching, and my own sly move.“Oh. Good morning.”“Sleep OK?”“When I finally did.”“Yeah,” I said. “Something woke me up in the middle of the night, too.”We cracked up at that like of couple of naughty six-year-olds. Saanvi got out of bed first, and she took her time putting on her nightgown. I watched her from the bed, and she watched me watching her from the bed. It felt nice — intimate, I guess is the word — to lie there with the quilt half-covering my bare titties, and her standing naked in the middle of the room, fussing with her gown, and neither of us in any hurry to get dressed.In fact, I stayed naked when we went downstairs, just to prove how much Dad didn’t care about seeing me with nothing on. And he didn’t. It was Saanvi who looked weird about it. She kept glancing at us, back and forth, while I got the cereal bowls out.It was Friday. Dad had a couple students in the morning, and then a chamber rehearsal the afternoon. He gulped the last of his.
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