A pale white leg worms between mine as you settle into your status as the tiny big spoon. You nibble my shoulder. Tell me you have just the song to �...dance’ to.You feed iPod buds into my ears and crank the juice.The Bee Gees crackle to life and your hips grind to the funky groove of the psychedelic 70s.“What the hell, blondie?” If Granny Teague caught me listening to Disco, she’d whoop my black ass. The whoring of funk, she’d say. The music of fornicating white girls looking to get knocked up. The temptation was great as his fingers stroked along the delicate folds of her vagina, running between the folds and feeling her moist hole before he moved back upwards, touching her core for a second and smiling as he continued his circle of movements before he heard her moaning in desperation for his fingers to be inside of her and he obliged willingly, letting his middle finger push inside of her and create a rhythmic beat inside of her, a circle running inside of her that was free to move. More

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