“Seventeen and shall be eighteen in September.” He stammered the second of the numerals and so made it sound like ‘aye-aye-aye-teen.”
“You are a good age. Your sister is pretty and your Mama-are they not?”
He blinked and nodded, giving a fearsome little start as I approached him and moved my hands down to his trouser buttons.
“Have you not been told to stand still when required, and to do as you are told?” I asked with a sharper tone in my voice.
“Y… y… yes.” He blinked again, having long eyelashes not unlike my own, and stared before him as I drew his trousers down and raised his shirt. A distinct tremor ran through his legs as I held his cock all limp upon my palm. My thumb moved over the top of it and he jerked.
“Be still, Phillip. Unbutton and remove your shirt while I hold it.”
Flushed and with lips wobbling awkwardly, he obeyed. The warmth of my palm and coaxing thumb made his prick stiffen slowly in my hand. The looping of his trousers round his ankles held him well. Males are ever vulnerable so. He would blubber when I spanked him, but I would caress him first.
Rose would be well attended to and soon enough. Saturday was but three days away. The world was indeed our oyster.