.. was this really me thinking? A Private Eye? Wake up, man. This is Betty we are talking about. My Libby, remember? Besides, do they really exist out...ide these cheap pocketbooks from the fifties? Mickey Spillane? Raymond Chandler?Give me a break.But I had to know. I needed to know what she did, working late. To know if there was business on her business trips. And what kind of business. I had to know how long her lunch breaks were and how much of it was lunch.So I started digging into her. I allowed my hands to caress my inner thighs and pulled them in to my pussy lips, careful not to touch my wet slit or clit yet. I rubbed my pussy lips lightly, and even this light touch was driving me crazy.In my frustration, I took one of my hands off and back up to my hair, pulling it hard. My other hand, still between my legs, I finally allowed to move to the center of my pussy (still through my panties) and gently stroke my burning slit. My wetness had long since soaked through my panties,. More

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