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Me. Before we have a puddle. Uh ... You use the other one, okay? Girl stuff."I went to the other bathroom and relieved a night's load of liquid, washed my face and returned to the bedroom to dress. That didn't take long. Like I said. Routine.Kim did her thing pretty fast, too, opening the door to let me know that the place wasn't off limits. I peered around the corner to see her clad in her standard jeans and blouse, not fashionable, but quite attractive on her in a carefree way. Of course, my judgment could have been a bit biased because I knew what was under it. She was running a brush through her hair, straightening out the night's disarray, and the result was quite stunning."Cereal okay for breakfast?" I asked.She turned to face me, smiling. "That'll work." Coffee?" Sure!"And breakfast occurred. I headed out of the house before she did. The last, lingering kiss before we parted, her standing in the door watching me leave, these things told me that loneliness was over. I didn't. You remember dont you?Artie: Uhhhhh nah not really what happened?Carmela: Okay so now you remember? So if I give you a hint you'll remember Artie: I mean yeah why not-Carmela scrunched her toes on Arties shorts, Feeling him getting aroused as she smirks* NOW YOU REMEMBER?!! Artie: you really bring that up? Come on you know what you was doing MelCarmela: But it felt didnt it?Artie: It did but I mean it was kinda weird that I actually got Hard (Laughs)Carmela: * looks at Artie* Stop being I'm denial * She wiggles and scrunches her soles on top of his dick making him stiff as a rock* Everytime my feet be out your dick hard? Since high school your friend want to fuck my feet but really I want you to do it I got shit backed up since you broke up with your girlfriend a couple months back *Pulls his shorts down as his dick springs out his boxers* Oooooooh (laughs) somebody's happy to me pass me the coconut oil so put on my feet*Carmela rubs coconut oil on her feet and his dick. She grips.
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And we thought we were perfectly safe until the fateful day that a Prefect turned up at our stop. Of course he reported us. The next day I was pretty well shaking in my boots at the thought of what was to come. My friend, who had vast experience of being caned told me to cheer up. He said it was like a 'winter warmer' and would soon be over. This made a caning sound perfectly okay. Obviously it would hurt a bit, but we were tough young men. A walk in the park really. Canings took place starting just after lunch and were carried out by prefects. These were boys only one, perhaps two years older than me. I mean, I would have loved the job. The fly in the ointment for my caning was that it was the Head Boy who was designated as the caner. We weren't friends as such but we did know each other socially. The idea that I would have to bend over and point my bottom at him to be hit, wasn't a happy one at all. First though, came a mind-numbing lecture from the Deputy Head. I mean,.

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