He was never overtly rude, but I could sense his disapproval every time we met. Once I even walked in while Mitchell was arguing with Miranda. I heard...him yell, "He's not your kind" before Miranda shushed him.Quite honestly, I was confused by it. I wasn't the greatest catch in the world, but I also wasn't anything Miranda should be ashamed of. Miranda explained it away as Mitchell's protectiveness. Just what he was protecting her against, I was afraid to ask.With the exception of Mitchell's. Fingers woulddelicately pluck at my sweet teats, teasing them rigid and making mybody writhe in response before my hand slid down across my belly and aragged thatch of pubic hair to reach the entrance to my vulva. There,sliding into the folds of flesh, I was able to explore the hotmoistness, hunt out my clitoris and press it to make my back arch. ThenI'd enjoy the sensation of my fingers inside of me. I liked to withdrawa wet digit and taste myself; lapping with my tongue at the hot musk ofmy. More

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