She parted her pussy lips and fingered herself I could hear her breathing. “I’m touching my pussy for you,” she said. “With my husband right ...utside.”“Did he fuck you yet?” I asked“No,” she responded. “I just have to keep fucking myself with my hand and thinking of you.”The next day she sent pictures in a black sundress. “I promise to send more pictures later,” she said. “I’m going to try and get him to fuck me tonight. But I’ll be thinking of you.”The thought made me jealous and a little. If I were a Victorian writer trying to describe your reactions, I could go wild with my vocabulary. I could use words rarely used now, such as... ‘disport.’ Mom taught it to me ... a couple years ago and I’ve never gotten to use it!”We dressed casual and re-aggregated in the W-house kitchen by 4:30. Those of us experienced in the house began pulling out anything that might remotely be considered a pizza topping and handed them to the girls around the island that were doing the initial. More

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