I would be rough with her very tender depending on my mood, she just loved it all, never complaining and always thanking me afterwards. She could give as good as she got too, giving me many exquisite orgasms. I became particularly fond of cunnilingus, both giving and receiving. In those days we had full body hair in both arm pits and pussy, there was no such thing as trimming or shaving that I was aware of at that time that would come later. And I firmly believe the hair holds the scent when one was aroused adding to the joy of love making. Sunday mornings she made us our toast, jam and tea that we shared, usually followed by more copulation unless Mother Nature interfered. We would enjoy a leisurely hot bath afterwards where Catherine liked to bathe me, we would take our time and chat too. She certainly loved to mother me, and after I would be treated to a nice sensual massage. After a few weeks she had washed my hair, and after I was sitting at her dressing table as she was. There was some fear and shame, counteracted by the deep trust I had for Bob. There also excitement at the novelty, mixed with a lingering hint of arousal. I was a cocktail of nervousness, anxiety, and utter glee. The only thing keeping me grounded was Bob's calm and authoritative demeanor. Being around him made me feel safe to try new things that would otherwise be unthinkable. But I didn't want to say all that out loud, so I settled on: "Ummmmmm a bit weird I guess?" "Weird how?" He inquired, as he let my skirt fall back down and began lightly stroking my hips and thighs. The gentle massaging made me feel comforted. This was really happening, and I was totally safe. I let my guard down and elaborated on my answer. "Well on one hand it feels kind of good... like fun and exciting you know? Almost like an adventure.." "And on the other hand?" he coaxed me to continue, still running his hands along my body. "I guess on the other hand I feel ashamed or humiliated or something... Boys.
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